


Enough to Hurt

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Biting, Consensual Kink, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Painplay, Scratching, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:49:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1243459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the summer on the US leg of the Take Me Home tour. Liam starts noticing little changes in Niall, the bruises on his hip, the scratch marks on his back, the way he seems to be more comfortable in his own skin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough to Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Golly, writing is hard. This started as a silly idea in my head when I had an emotional breakdown last summer over Niall in tank tops. This got really out of hand and holy cow, there is so much porn here. :/
> 
> The fact that this became an actual story is thanks to some really wonderful people. Thank you to [Amanda](http://becomewords.tumblr.com) for her enthusiasm and willingness to talk about this with me. So many scenes came about because of her. Thanks to [Michelle](http://goddamnitharold.tumblr.com) for reading many different versions of this and offering suggestions and just all around being a lovely friend. [Sam](http://dazy-laze.tumblr.com) is the queen of the Britpickers and there would be lots of talk of sweat pants in this if it weren't for her. I owe [Lucy](http://psycholinguistic.tumblr.com/) so much. I was a wreck when I sent this to her and it cannot be overstated how much she fixed this and helped me when I was stuck and didn't want to look at this anymore. Everyone should have a beta like her. Last, but never least, thank you to [Nadine](http://idctbqh.tumblr.com/) for commiserating with me over this, for cheer leading and for making a killer [mix](http://idctbqh.tumblr.com/post/78002214566).

June in the Southern half of the States is brutal. It's half three and Liam's vest is clinging to him, soaked through with sweat. The air is thick and heavy with a humidity that makes it difficult to breathe. Mark is running a particularly tough session this afternoon, not letting up an ounce despite the heat and Liam's entire body feels as though it's on fire.

Beside him, Niall's face is contorted like he's trying to solve a maths problem as he twists to the side, the medicine ball in his outstretched hands.

Right now what Liam wants to be doing is lounging about somewhere cool and dark, maybe with a tub of ice cream, definitely not out in the sunshine sweating half his body weight off.

Niall doesn't say anything; he's singularly focused on what he's doing.

Niall lifts the ball up over his head, back arching, his top riding up his belly. There’s a flash of skin, Niall’s joggers slipping low on his hips and Liam can make out the faded green and yellow of a bruise, right in the hollow of his hip bone.

"Jesus," Liam says on a breath, stilling Niall with a hand on his hip. "That looks nasty. What'd you do?"

Niall blinks at him, sweat in his eyes, breathing hard. "What are you on about?"

Liam pulls Niall's vest up his belly and turns Niall by the hip. "That,” he says, gesturing at the mark, “looks like it hurts."

Niall looks down to the bruise on his pale skin. His cheeks are flushed from exertion. He shrugs. “It’s nothing,” he says, sidestepping away from Liam. He turns like he’s going to go back to his lifts but Liam catches him around the waist, fingers digging playfully into the soft flesh at his belly just to hear the way Niall laughs, head back and eyes all squinty. There are few things Liam loves more than making Niall laugh.

“Come on now,” Liam teases, digging his thumb into Niall’s hip, his own chest going fluttery and tight when Niall beams at him, blinding and warm as sunlight. “No secrets, Nialler.” Niall struggles in Liam’s grip and Liam laughs a little, pleased. “No use, pal. I’m a bit bigger than you now.”

Niall laughs harder at that. “You are,” he agrees and wraps his arm around Liam’s neck, gripping him by the back of the hair.

Liam constantly forgets that Niall knows how to play dirty, the product of having an older brother. Niall pulls and Liam hisses, head back. He lets go enough that Niall releases his death grip on the back of Liam’s head.

Niall’s distracted so Liam can get a better look at the bruise on his hip, a muted blur of color that’s faded a little but had to be painful to still look like that days after the fact.

He touches his thumb to it without thinking, and says, “Doesn’t look like nothing, mate,” under his breath. His head’s swirling with thoughts of what could make a bruise like that.

Niall takes a quick, sharp breath like the bruise still hurts and pushes Liam’s hand away. “It’s what I said, isn’t it, Payno? It’s nothing.” He flashes Liam a smile and slaps him across the bum. “Now get back to work.”

Liam is admittedly slow to catch on to a lot of things but clearly this is something Niall’s keeping to himself. Liam doesn’t like the idea of not knowing something about one of the others. He’s bared his entire soul to the four of them; there’s nothing they don’t know about him.

He goes back to his pull-ups, focusing on the burn in his shoulders and arms and lets it slip out of his head.

He doesn’t think about it until it comes up again.

The next stop is North Carolina and it’s a good stretch of driving from Atlanta. It’s close to two and the others are quiet, secluded in their bunks or the back lounge. Liam’s still wired, buzzing underneath his skin from a wicked show. He loves performing in the States, the crowds electric and thrumming. It always takes him a bit to relax enough to fall asleep but tonight he feels it a little more, that restless energy coursing through him he doesn’t know how to calm.

In the front of the bus, Niall’s eating peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon, leaning against the sink. He’s wearing the same faded grey jogging bottoms he had on when they left the venue and the Eagles t-shirt he’s so fond of and doesn’t seem to take off unless it’s to walk around topless.

“That’s disgusting,” Liam says, making a face. Liam’s never understood peanut butter or why Niall seems to love it as much as he does. 

Niall’s either not heard him or is ignoring him, humming to himself some tune Liam doesn’t recognize, happy like eating peanut butter at two in the morning is the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

Liam envies Niall’s ability to find utter joy in absolutely every mundane moment of their lives. He doesn’t begin to understand it, but he admires it.

He remembers the first time they met, at Boot Camp. Liam had been close to quaking with nerves, his entire future hanging on this opportunity and there was Niall, surrounded by people, a guitar in his hands and an attitude like everything was going to be okay, whatever happened.

Liam gravitates to that these days, when things like angry fans and rude paparazzi make him feel like he’s not working hard enough, not putting enough of himself into this. Niall lets it all roll off his shoulders. Liam likes being around Niall. Niall never complains.

Liam leans against the table across from Niall, ants. He kicks out at Niall’s foot, feeling like an ignored child.

Niall pauses with the spoon halfway to his mouth, one eyebrow crooked. “What?”

Liam shrugs but doesn’t say anything. He watches a flicker of irritation pass over Niall’s face before he goes back to his peanut butter, licking at the spoon.

“Honestly,” Liam says a little too loudly, “how can you eat that? It’s disgusting.”

“Liam,” Niall says, this little furrow between his eyebrows, “go away.”

Liam beams. He can’t help it, he feels the smile on his face, wide and happy. He likes pushing Niall’s buttons. He’s so unflappable, unless he’s hungry or tired, and Liam finds he likes poking at him to get a reaction.

Niall puts the peanut butter back in the cupboard, rinses the spoon and sets it in the drainer.

“Hey,” Liam says, reaching for the hem of Niall’s shirt and giving it a tug.

“It’s late, Payno,” Niall says, pushing at Liam’s wrist. Liam frowns, feeling ornery. He stands and grabs Niall around his middle but the bus jerks suddenly and he loses his balance. He pitches forward, arm around Niall, sending them both to the floor.

“Fuck,” Niall hisses, his head falling back against the floor with a sharp thud. Liam feels the breath go out of him as he lands heavily on top of him. “You’re such an arse,” Niall says but it’s breathless, brow furrowed and eyes pressed shut.

“Sorry,” Liam says, not feeling anything of the sort. “Just wanted a cuddle,” he says with a cheeky smile that starts somewhere deep in his chest. Sometimes he really loves his life.

Niall opens his eyes, wide with what Liam is sure is meant to be outrage. It just looks silly on Niall. “You couldn’t have just said so like a normal person?”

Liam’s got an arm around Niall’s waist, Niall’s weight resting on his forearm and he tightens his grip, hauling Niall closer. “This way’s more fun.” 

Niall huffs against Liam’s chest, that sound Liam loves, like he’s trying not to laugh.

Liam should get up. It’s stupid, lying on the floor of the bus like this. But he likes the way Niall feels beneath him, reminding him of quick, furtive hand jobs and breathless snogging with a mate, back before X-Factor, before life got slightly more complicated. 

He gets to his knees between Niall’s legs, goes to stand and help Niall up but he’s caught by the patch of skin below Niall’s belly button where his jogging bottoms have slipped low and his t-shirt’s gone rucked up around his middle. There’s a red mark, almost the width of his waist. It’s new, fresh, pretty recent judging by the redness, the skin slightly raised. It looks like it hurts.

“Nialler,” Liam mumbles, “what the fuck?” He touches it without thinking, puts the soft pad of his thumb to the marred skin. His eyes fly to Niall’s with the sudden, sharp intake of air in his lungs. Niall’s cheeks have gone pink, like they do when he’s embarrassed, but the look in his eyes isn’t embarrassment. It’s a hazy, dazed look, eyes gone heavy lidded. He’s breathing hard, like he’s done one of Mark’s impossible sequences.

Liam rubs his thumb against the skin, pressing a little harder, intrigued by the way Niall reacts to it.

"Liam," Niall mumbles, head falling back, eyes closed. Liam doesn't know what would make a mark like that, there on Niall's belly. What he wants to know is where it came from, how it happened in the short amount of time since this afternoon.

“Where’d this come from, hmm?” Liam asks. This is not the way mates touch each other, but the way Niall looks right now, his thighs sprawled wide, jogging bottoms tugged low on his hips--that’s not supposed to make Liam’s chest tight and his belly hot either.

Niall wraps his hand around Liam’s wrist. “Payno,” he says. It’s low, quiet and it comes out like a plea, like he’s asking for something. 

Liam drags his eyes up and is caught off guard by the heat in the way Niall’s watching him. His lips are parted, his breathing shallow, his skin pink.

“What happened here, Niall?” He shakes his wrist out of Niall’s grasp and presses his fingers to his skin, harder than before. Niall sucks in a deep, startled breath, his belly going concave.

“Its nothing, shit,” he gasps. His fingers find Liam’s wrist again but this time he just holds on, grip tight on Liam. It’s almost like he’s urging Liam on, like he _wants_ Liam to touch him, though it clearly hurts.

“Niall,” Liam mumbles. “You like it, then? You like _this_?” He presses down with the tip of his thumb, nail catching on the skin where it’s reddest and raised. He feels his face heat up; Niall doesn’t just like it, he’s getting off on it, his cock hard against Liam’s leg where it’s pressed up between Niall’s thighs.

“No,” Niall grits out between clenched teeth. He pushes Liam’s hand away and scrambles to sit up. “It’s nothing, fuck.” His cheeks are red. He’s watched Niall make a complete and utter arse of himself for twenty thousand people, because Louis told him to, because it made the place errupt in screams. He’s watched him do hundreds of things and shake it off with a grin and a laugh. He has never seen Niall like this.

Niall gets to his feet, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt and Liam feels guilty that he pushed.

“Nialler,” he says softly, touching Niall’s hip. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” He wraps his arm around Niall’s back, trying to keep it light, like it’s mates being mates and nothing else, nothing to be embarrassed about. He rubs his palm high up between Niall’s shoulder blades, trying to soothe.

He feels Niall’s huff of air against his chin, Niall holding himself still and rigid.

“I’m going to bed,” Niall says quietly, shrugging out of Liam’s arms around his shoulders. He steps back and he’s still flushed. Liam’s aware of his cock, the shape of it in his trackies. He’s not trying to look, but it just happens and he feels his own face go hot.

“Okay.” Liam gives Niall what he hopes is a friendly, non threatening smile but it makes Niall’s eyebrows knit together in a frown. Liam does not like that. “Hey,” he says, ducking his head down to get in Niall’s face. “We’re good, Niall. Everything’s good, right?”

Liam watches Niall’s face and sees the moment he decides, yes, they’re alright. He lets out a breath like a balloon deflating and knocks his shoulder against Liam’s. “Yeah, Payno,” he says and it’s not a smile but there’s a little more light in his eyes and the wrinkle in his brow is gone.

Liam follows Niall back to the bunks and climbs into his own, letting himself really feel how exhausted he is. He closes his eyes and breathes through the tension in his body, the soreness in his muscles. It’s slow, a building awareness that takes him by surprise. He’s hard, his cock pressed up against the front of his pants. It’s not urgent and he doesn’t know if he wants to do anything about it, but he’s surprised to find that his body liked what happened between him and Niall. He doesn’t know what to do about it.

 

*

 

Liam wakes a few hours later as the bus pulls into the venue in Raleigh. It’s quiet; he thinks he’s the only one awake until he hears rustling in the bunk across from him. He pulls the curtain back in time to see Niall hop down from his own bunk, his rucksack slung over his shoulder. Liam checks the read out on his phone. It’s not even seven AM; he has no idea where Niall’s going at this hour.

He shuts the curtain and rolls back over. When he wakes again it’s after noon.

He spends an hour and a half sparring and lifting weights. He has a long shower and finds Louis for a while before they have to head over to the venue.

Liam doesn’t see Niall again until sound check. He comes in wearing a t-shirt despite it being nearly a hundred degrees and humid. Liam's used to seeing Niall in vests or shirtless. It doesn’t seem out of the ordinary to anyone else, no one comments on it, but Liam can’t think about anything but what the t-shirt is covering up.

On stage later, ten thousand people screaming for them, adrenaline coursing through his body, Liam catches sight of Niall doing some ridiculous hip swivel for the reaction it gets from the crowd. He’s got his back to Liam, his black jeans slung low and Liam is watching fondly, always fondness for Niall and the way he throws himself into this. Niall flings his arms over his head and his vest shifts, sides pulling to reveal the pale skin of his back and a quick flash of red along his spine, several scratches like someone dragged their fingernails down his skin.

He gets it then, sudden and sure, a flash of Niall with someone, using their hands on his skin, marking him up and making him cry out. He thinks about Niall slipping out of the bus in the early morning, about the mark on his belly last night, about the hard shape of his cock in his trackies. A dozen things are running through Liam’s mind but the loudest is the question of _who_. Niall didn’t have those scratches early this morning when they were on the bus. 

Liam tries to distract himself, throwing himself into the performance even though he’s drenched in sweat and it’s especially difficult to sing and race around the stage with the humidity in the air. He keeps thinking about it, though. 

Finally, they've sung the last song and done their bows and Liam catches Niall alone before they're hurried off to the buses.

"What's that then?" he asks like Niall has any idea what he's talking about, like he's a part of the conversation Liam's been having in his head since he saw what were clearly scratches, the shape of someone's nails on his skin.

"What's what?" he says, brows knit together. He's soaked in sweat, still breathing hard from the exertion and adrenaline of running around the stage for two hours.

Liam turns Niall, a hand on his hip, so his back is to him. He pushes Niall's vest aside and touches the longest of the red marks, the skin raised and stark in contrast to his pallor. Up close, Liam can see the path they mark; down to the hollow of Niall’s spine, they look like the imprint of someone’s nails on him. They look like they hurt, a couple deep like blood was drawn. Liam touches his thumb to the top where the skin was broken.

Niall's breath stutters momentarily and he holds himself still for a beat, head falling forward, baring the back of his neck.

“Does it hurt?” Liam asks. It looks like it hurts. The way he’s gone loose in the shoulders, body slumped forward reminds him of earlier when they were on the bus. It’s over in a moment, though, when Niall breathes in and moves sharply, turning away from Liam the way he did the other day when Liam asked about the bruise on his hip. He's quiet for a second like he's sorting out what to say about it.

Liam watches him school his face into something neutral. Liam watches with a newfound awareness, the way Niall checks himself. Liam's never thought of Niall as having secrets.

"That's just fun, Liam," Niall says with a bright eyed smile and Liam wants to argue. "It's all it is."

Liam should let Niall go. He can see Preston hovering off to the side, waiting to usher them out to the buses. But all Liam can think about is the bruise on Niall's hip, the guarded look in Niall's eyes when he'd brushed it aside. He's not used to any of them hiding things, not from him.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Liam says quietly. He turns Niall’s back towards him with a hand on his hip and pulls Niall’s damp vest aside again. He touches his fingers to the marks, mimics them with the tips of his fingers and can almost see the way his own nails would leave similar marks on Niall’s skin. Absently, he presses his nail into the skin and Niall hisses, shoulders hunching, head falling forward. 

"'M not," Niall says. His breathing has quickened, his shoulders rising and falling with the timing of his breaths. 

“Niall,” Liam grips Niall by the shoulder and turns him to face him. Niall’s cheeks are pink and there’s this hazy look in his eyes that Liam remembers from the bus. 

"I don’t understand," Liam admits. “But you can talk to me, you know.” He’s fumbling for the right thing to say.

He's not used to feeling uncomfortable around Niall. Even back in the beginning when he was unsure of his place, Niall had always made him feel like he belonged. 

Niall’s holding himself still. “I know I can, Liam.” He smiles a little and Liam’s chest loosens. They’re okay, he thinks. Everything’s okay. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, though,” Niall says. “It’s just a laugh.” 

Liam still doesn’t get it, but around them people are shouting for them and now isn’t the time nor place. “Okay,” Liam says, for lack of anything better. 

 

*

 

They get to DC the following Sunday and they’ve got two days in one of the nicer hotels they’ve stayed in this tour. In the morning, after Liam’s slept for a solid six hours, the most he’s had since they’re break before Mexico City, he finds breakfast and the lads in Harry’s room, a spread of pastries and fruit and French toast. 

“Morning,” he says, stepping into the room. It’s just the five of them at the moment until Paul arrives to run through the next week’s schedule. Zayn’s lying in the unmade bed, one arm folded beneath his head. Liam gives him five minutes before he’s asleep again. Louis’s thumbing through his phone and Harry’s stood behind Niall, bent over him, talking quietly in his ear. 

Niall’s subdued. He’s slumped in his seat, legs splayed, head back. He’s got his eyes closed but his face tilted up towards Harry’s, listening to him. There's something about the looseness in his limbs that Liam recognizes. 

Liam sits down at the table, makes himself a cup of tea and tries to look like he’s not staring at Niall. At one point Niall sits up, pulling the hood of his jumper down and turns to say something to Louis, and Liam catches a flash of color at his throat. It’s a red mark like someone used their mouth on Niall’s skin and Liam’s face goes hot with recognition. 

“Morning boys,” Paul says, letting himself into the room. “Everyone ready to go?” 

Liam nods along as Paul goes through the plan for the next couple of days, the cities they’re headed to, the interviews they’ve lined up. Liam’s listening - he likes to text his mum and let her know where they’re headed - but he’s distracted. 

“Alright, time to get moving,” Paul says finally and they’re up and being ushered out the door. They’ve got twenty minutes before the bus is pulling out and Liam still has to get his things sorted and packed. What he does instead is call out to Niall as he’s following the others out of the room. Harry’s disappeared into the bathroom; Liam can hear the shower running. “Niall,” he calls out, “give us a minute, would you?” 

Niall stops, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, and turns as the door closes. “Hey, Payno,” he says with half a smile. He looks knackered, his eyes soft and sleepy. “What’d you need?’ 

Liam doesn’t know what to say now that it’s just him and Niall. This isn’t any of his business, and he should let it go. But his eyes fall to the bruise at Niall's throat and he can see the unmistakable shape of teeth at the edge as he gets closer and his whole body goes taut, tension in his shoulders and spine and he knows he's not going to.

He steps closer, right up in Niall’s space, crowding him up against the door.There’s a tight, hot feeling in his stomach, it’s new and has him reaching out to touch Niall like he has any right to. This is not something mates do. 

Liam curls his hands in the soft hair at the nape of Niall's neck, and tilts his head back. There's no force in it. He’s not trying to hurt Niall - he doesn’t know _what_ he’s trying to do - and he tugs gently until he can get a better look at the juncture beneath his jaw where the skin is red and mottled like it was broken at one point. 

“Liam.” Niall says his name like it’s been punched out of him, breathless and startled. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” Liam says absently as he leans closer. He’s caught by the way Niall’s throat looks, pale skin dotted with moles here and there and then a sharp angry looking bruise right at the vulnerable dip beneath his pulse point. There's a quick, sudden intake of breath from Niall, a hitch in his throat. His eyes go wide but he holds himself still. Liam touches his thumb to the bruise. The skin around it goes pale and it’s like flipping a switch in Niall the way his body seems to melt, his limbs going boneless as the breath leaves him a rush, this quiet sound stuck somewhere in his chest. He curls his fingers around Liam’s wrist but he doesn’t stop him, just holds Liam there, finger against the bruise on his skin and shudders.

The silence between them feels tense, just the sound of their breathing as Niall lets Liam look.

“Liam,” Niall says again and it’s sharper this time, insistent. His fingers tighten on Liam’s wrist. “Either do something, or let me go. Stop messing me about.”

“I’m not,” Liam says. He hates that Niall thinks it – he doesn’t know what he was thinking when he cornered Niall like this but the air between them has gone thick and heavy and he’s flushed and turned on.

Niall huffs and pulls Liam’s hand away from his throat but doesn’t let go of his wrist. “Yes you are,” he says roughly. His face is pink. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but stop.” He moves like he’s going to push away and Liam lets out a surprised sound when he brushes up against him and Liam can feel how hard he is against his hip, the hard shape of him through his joggers. 

“Shit,” Niall breathes and like he can’t help it he rests his head on Liam’s shoulder for a beat like he’s trying to steady himself. “What are you doing to me?” he mutters under his breath and Liam’s not sure he was supposed to hear that, but it rushes through him, makes his skin go hot.

“Fuck, Niall,” Liam whispers. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.” 

“Let it go, Liam,” Niall pleads, and doesn’t look back as he lets the door shut behind him. 

Liam lets him go.

 

* 

 

It feels like someone’s just told Liam Father Christmas doesn’t exist. He doesn’t know what to do now. Being around Niall has always been easy, easier than learning how to navigate a friendship with Louis or how to deal with Zayn’s need to be alone when Liam just wants to spend all his time with him. He never had to learn how to be friends with Niall, it happened as naturally as breathing, felt as easy. 

Niall doesn’t carry things with him like that, though, and when Liam sees him again, chucking a rugby ball around with the band, Paul and their security, Niall flashes him a smile and lets himself be tackled by Sandy, laughing like nothing’s changed. 

It’s one of Liam’s favorite things about Niall, the way he lets everything roll off him. He takes it in, feels it or experiences it, and lets it go. Liam has never been good at doing that. He carries everything with him, holds onto it until it festers and ruptures inside of him. 

“Payno!” Niall calls. He’s bent over the rugby ball, laughing, as Josh tries to wrestle it from him. “C’mon, come play.” 

Liam’s rubbish at rugby but he’s up for the distraction. He runs over and finds himself on Niall’s team; he’d do just about anything for Niall to smile at him like that. 

The game lasts for close to an hour until they’re all sweat-soaked and disgusting. Liam is lighter, and there’s nothing between him and Niall but an easy banter that feels right and makes the knot in Liam’s stomach loosen. 

Liam spends an hour in the quiet dark at the back of the bus, playing Grand Theft Auto with Zayn. The air conditioning is blissful, and Liam slouches down next to Zayn, half watching the screen. He likes these quiet moments with Zayn, the moments during tour that are low key. 

Zayn’s shirtless and Liam’s cataloguing his tattoos, his eyes tracing the shape of each one he can see. 

He remembers when Zayn got his first tattoo, the heart inked on his hip and seeing it when it was fresh. He’d quietly showed Liam when Liam had asked, pulling at the waist of his jeans to expose the skin. 

“Did it hurt?” he had asked and watched Zayn’s cheeks turn pink. The ink had been fresh, the edges of the heart red where the skin had bled. 

Zayn had shrugged. “A bit, but it was okay. After a bit, with the buzzing you just sorta get used to it.” He was quiet for a second in the way Liam had learned meant he was thinking carefully about how to say what he wanted. “I think I liked it. Like, it kind of felt good?” Liam hadn’t understood then, about what Zayn had meant. Now he’s starting to get it, how sometimes that line between pain and pleasure can be blurred. 

Liam has his tattoos and no plans for more. He doesn’t get the buzz from it that Harry seems to or the satisfaction that Zayn takes from having his memories and experiences permanently inked into his skin.

Zayn’s sprawled out, one leg hooked over Liam’s knee, the soft flesh of his hip exposed.

Liam watches Zayn’s face carefully as he reaches over and takes Zayn’s skin between his thumb and forefinger, the vulnerable patch above the waist of his jeans, and pinches hard.

“Oi, fuck,” Zayn hisses and Liam nearly gets an elbow to the face as Zayn sits up suddenly, the game controller flying out of his hand.

Liam bites his lip to keep from laughing. The expression on Zayn’s face is a mix of hurt and exasperation and Liam tucks his face against Zayn’s shoulder to hide his smile.

“Sorry,” Liam breathes, though he’s not because Zayn is hilarious like this. Liam rubs the back of his neck in apology.

Zayn shrugs Liam off but it’s half-hearted. He’s scowling, brow furrowed as he rubs at his hip. “What the fuck was that for?”

“You didn’t like that?” Liam can’t stop laughing at Zayn. He should feel worse but sometimes, in little moments like these, he’s reminded of how lucky he is. How good he’s got it. 

Zayn does push Liam off then, a hand at his face. That’s the look Zayn saves for him, fond disbelief. “No, you knob,” he says with a laugh, “what the fuck would I like you pinching me for?”

Liam laughs harder then at the outrage on Zayn’s face, like he’s honestly offended. “Sorry, sorry,” Liam laughs. “Want me to kiss it better?”

“No, don’t touch me,” Zayn says but he lifts his arm up and lets Liam scoot in next to him so Liam knows he’s forgiven. 

Zayn retrieves the controller and goes back to the game. After a few minutes of silence save for the sound effects from the game, Zayn glances over at Liam and says, “So what was that about, hm?” It’s gentle, prodding, his “I’m listening” voice that had Liam spilling all his secrets back when they were all just getting to know each other and he was learning that he could trust them.

“Just thinking,” Liam says, playing with the drawstring of his jogging bottoms.

Zayn hits pause on the game and sets the remote down.

“Do you ever,” Liam starts then trails off because he doesn’t know how to say what he wants to know. “I mean, with Perrie, do you and she ever.”

There’s a reason Zayn’s the one Liam goes to when he’s trying to figure something out. Zayn’s unendingly patient, waiting for Liam to be ready. Zayn would never make Liam feel stupid for not knowing something, for stumbling through trying to ask a question.

“Do you and she ever hurt each other? During sex, I mean,” Liam says and then frowns and looks away from Zayn’s face because his own is flushed.

“No, not really,” Zayn says. “Like, sometimes we’re a little rough, but not like trying to hurt each other. It’s not really for me, I’m not into pain. But she choked me once.” 

Liam feels his eyes go wide. “Does it - do you like it?”

Zayn grins and Liam loves the way his eyes go squinty when he smiles like that, bright and happy. “Yeah, bro, it’s good. She did it once right before I came and it made everything, like, really sharp and kind of intense.”

Liam still remembers when he and Zayn were the virgins in the group, both of them quietly shy and insecure. A lot has changed in three years.

Zayn’s watching him with this thoughtful expression like he’s reading Liam. “Bro,” he says then, slow like he’s figured something out. “Is this about Niall?”

“No,” Liam says too quickly, looking away from Zayn. “Does he talk to you about this?”

Zayn shrugs. “Not really. I saw him in the middle of something once and just sort of put it together.” Zayn pushes his fingers into Liam’s hair. “You don’t have to worry so much about it, babe,” he tells Liam, his voice gentle, coaxing. “I think it’s just his way.”

Liam sighs, pleasure in his bones. Zayn playing with his hair is one of his favorite things in life. He turns to look at Zayn. “His way?”

Zayn makes a gesture with his hand that could really mean anything. “How he deals with all of this.”

Out of all of them, Liam’s never thought of Niall as needing to “deal” with everything that’s been thrown at them. He’s always just thought of Niall as carefree, rolling with the punches.

He thinks maybe things are starting to fit together in his head a little better.

Later when Liam had his shower and is letting Lou mess with his hair, he wonders if he and Niall need to talk. If this is something Liam should talk to Niall about. 

He finds Niall right before they’re about to go on, getting his in-ears put in. He comes up behind him, arms wrapping him up in a hug. “Hi,” Liam says quietly, pressed right up against Niall’s ear. Niall goes still against him, shoulders stiff, spine straight. 

Liam hugs him, arms around his chest, head bent down low tucked against his shoulder. He tries to put into it all the words he doesn’t know how to say. Liam might not understand what Niall needs, but he understands _needing_ something. And he tries to tell him it’s okay, whatever Niall feels - about Liam, about anything - it’s okay. Liam never wants Niall to feel weird around him.

Against him Niall relaxes into Liam, his head falling back against Liam’s shoulder, letting him hug him like that for a beat. 

Liam presses his mouth to the curve of Niall’s jaw. “We’re okay, yeah?” 

“Yeah, yes,” Niall breathes. He leans back into Liam, head back against Liam’s shoulder like he’s letting himself, just for a second. “Yeah, Liam, we’re good.” He gives him a quick, bright smile and he’s moving away before Liam's ready to let him go. 

“C’mon,” Niall laughs, looking back over his shoulder and grinning. “Let’s go have fun.” 

The show that night is one of their best. Liam looks out over the crowd of 20,000 and goes breathless. He lets himself feel every second of it, enjoy it the way he sometimes forgets to. The fans respond to it, shouting his name and screaming and it feels better than anything. 

 

* 

 

After the second show in DC, they get to Philly a little before one in the morning. Liam usually sleeps on the bus with Zayn and Louis but when they get to the hotel after the show, he grabs his pillow and his duffle and lets Paul usher him through the crowd of fans into the lobby. He’s still a little high from the adrenaline of DC and that mixed with the confusion of the last few days has him feeling out of sorts. His head is muddled, he’s exhausted but wired and sorely in need of a good night’s rest. He thinks about ordering something from room service. 

In the lift, Niall’s smiling down at something on his phone. He’s been favoring his right knee and he saw Mark earlier for a pulled muscle in his back but Liam’s never known Niall to get down about things like that. Niall can always find something to smile about. Liam has always envied that. 

It’s quiet between them but it’s an easy kind of quiet. Basil’s leaning against the lift wall, stoic and silent as always. 

“Do you want to come to mine?” Liam asks abruptly, surprising himself. He thinks it might be nice to watch some terrible American television program with Niall, to make him laugh as they make fun of the real housewives of the middle of nowhere.

Niall shakes his head and smiles a little, apologetic almost. “Not tonight, Payno. I’m knackered, just gonna sleep.”

Liam’s only a little disappointed but he doesn’t press. The lift lets them off on their floor and Liam follows Niall out. They have rooms next to each other. “Night, Nialler,” Liam says, using his key card to let himself into his room.

Niall smiles at him. “Go on,” he says with a fond laugh.

Liam lets the door shut behind himself and turns the lights on. He finds an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond on the telly and strips out of his kit.

The shower in the bathroom is entirely made of glass, with the kind of water pressure that Liam loves, the water hitting his skin and easing the ache in his muscles.

He stands there under the spray until he starts to feel loose and relaxed, eyes drooping. He dries himself, wraps the towel around his waist and pads out into the bedroom.

He's rustling in his bag for his pants when he hears a low, muted cry coming from somewhere in the hotel. He straightens and goes still, listening. A second later he hears it again, this time a little higher and the hair stands up on the back of his neck. He recognizes that sound. He's standing there with his towel around his waist, trying to steady his breathing, listening and recognition slams through him when it happens again. It's sudden and sharp, this high, needy "oh please," and Liam's hands curl into fists because that's _Niall_.

His heart’s hammering in his throat because for a split second it sounded like Niall was in trouble but Liam knows what that sound is, he knows what it means. He should do something, _needs_ to do something like turn the telly up or put his earbuds in. He could find Harry - Harry’s always up for a laugh. He could leave and go to the bus. He could do anything other than stand here half naked.

It happens again. It’s a wordless cry and Liam did not need to know what Niall sounds like when he’s getting laid. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to think about it, about what’s happening but it’s impossible to ignore that his dick is quickly getting hard beneath his towel. 

He takes a deep, steadying breath and forces himself to move. He fishes his pants out of his bag and tugs them on quickly, blindly, studiously ignoring his cock. He dresses in joggers and a t-shirt and turns the volume up on the television. He’s breathing hard, his pulse beating erratically as he climbs into the bed. He tries to focus on whatever’s happening on screen but his entire body is tight with tension, with awareness of what’s happening in the room next to his. It’s not clear but the walls are thin enough that he can hear the occasional sound of Niall crying out. 

He settles into the bed, covers pulled up around his middle and thinks for a brief second of having a wank. He tentatively touches his palm to his dick, tracing the shape of it beneath his trackies, feeling himself get harder under his hand. His stomach is twisted and hot, guilt mixed with arousal and it’s a new feeling he’s not sure he likes. He plays with himself idly through his clothes, his pulse picking up and his cock filling out. He’s not _trying_ to listen but when Niall cries out he can hear it, not clearly but unmistakable. His hips push up into his palm and he groans, his skin heated. 

He’s feeling terribly, horribly guilty. He climbs out of bed and goes into the bathroom. He’s hard now and he’s not going to sleep like this, but there’s a low level of shame at wanking to the sounds of his mate getting off. He shuts the door behind him and pushes his pants and trackies to his thighs. He leans against the sink and closes his eyes, trying not to think about anything in particular as he wraps his hand around himself. 

He picks an image of a faceless person on their knees for him, a warm and willing mouth and tries to focus on that as he strokes his cock. He braces himself against the sink with one hand on the porcelain behind him and works his hand a little faster. He can’t hear anything now but the sound of his own breathing. 

He climbs back into bed and falls asleep with the lights on and the volume on the television turned up, a pillow pressed over his face. 

He jolts awake a little while later, something having startled him out of sleep. He lays there listening and there’s a sharp, loud knock on the door. It takes him a second to get his bearings. The television is blaring, some late night advert and outside the windows it’s still dark. He blinks at the clock on the bedside table. It's just after two am. 

He stumbles to his feet feeling groggy and disoriented and goes to the door. He’s not thinking as he opens it but the last person he expects to see standing in the corridor is Niall. 

He’s wearing jogging bottoms and a jumper and his hair is wet. He looks soft and sleepy and as Liam slowly wakes up he realizes the look he’s seeing is the same from a few mornings ago, like he’s just been shagged. Liam isn’t thinking clearly as he takes Niall in, eyes sliding down his body. His joggers are slung low on his hips and he doesn’t mean to look but he can’t help it. He's got smudges on his hip bones, dark little blurs of color like someone pressed their fingers into his skin and held him down. 

Liam feels the heat rush to his face and he looks up quickly. Jesus, he did not need that image in his head, not now that he knows what Niall sounds like when someone’s using their hands on him. 

"Liam," Niall says, brows knit together in a frown. "What do you have your telly on so loud for, can't sleep, can I, with it that loud."

Liam can’t think of a single thing to say. There’s no plausible excuse for why the television is on at full volume at half two in the morning. It takes him a minute for his brain to wake up. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to make this any more awkward than it already is.

"Sorry, yeah, sorry mate," he says in a rush, leaving the door wide open and hurrying back into the room to grab the remote. He finds it at the foot of the bed underneath his trainers. He turns the television off and drops the remote. 

He stands awkwardly in the doorway. “Sorry, fell asleep, didn't realize it was so loud." It’s a terrible lie and he’s sure Niall will call him on it. He’s watching him with a look on his face like he wants to say something. He seems to think better of it. 

"Okay, well, sorry to wake you. See you in the morning."

Liam nods, scrubbing a hand over his bleary eyes. “Sorry again,” he says. "Goodnight.” Niall pulls the door closed behind him.

Liam turns all the lights off and climbs back into bed. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep. 

 

*

 

Liam is wide awake an hour before he has to be the following morning. He slept poorly and his entire body aches from the work out Mark put him through yesterday. He stays in bed, hoping he’ll fall asleep again, but gives it up as a lost cause after fifteen minutes.

The hotel gym is quiet when he walks in and finds Harry there on a treadmill. He’s got his hair pulled back in a head band and his face is red from exertion.

Liam doesn’t like running all that much but he’s found it helps to clear his head when it gets too crowded and noisy. He has a tendency to overthink things, Louis is constantly telling him so, but Liam hasn’t yet figured out how to stop. He finds that focusing on a workout helps in a way nothing else has, unless he’s drinking. He spends too much time in his own head, constantly trying to understand the things he can’t.

Liam starts up the treadmill next to Harry’s. Harry looks over, clearly surprised to see him. “Morning, Liam," he says, sweat sliding down his cheek.

“Morning,” Liam says with a breath in as he starts the treadmill at a quick clip, focusing on the strength in his legs and the burn in his muscles.

Probably he shouldn't devote even a second to thinking about the marks on Niall's body. He should leave it alone. It’s not his business. On a practical, logical level, he understands. But the reality is, Niall's one of his best mates, and Liam can't stop thinking about the bruise on his hip, the scratch marks on his back. He can't stop thinking about what they mean, about where they came from. As far as he and any of the others knew, Niall goes back to the hotel alone every night, has a wank and watches telly. Never has there been a mention of him and someone else.

“What’s going on with Niall?” he says, pulling air into his lungs. It’s hot in the tiny gym despite a fan blowing stale air into his face. He hadn’t planned to say that but the thing is, Harry and Niall are especially close these days and if anyone’s going to know what’s going on with Niall, it’ll be Harry. 

Harry looks over, sweat in his eyes and eyelashes. “Dunno? What’s going on with Niall?” 

“Were you with him last night?” Liam doesn’t know why he’s asking, Harry’s probably not the one one marking Niall up. But it comes out before he can stop it. 

“No,” Harry says. “Was with Tom and Lou. Why?”

“Just heard him, last night,” Liam says. He’s breathing hard, sweat sliding down his skin and it feels good, the burn in his thighs and the exertion. It’s what he needed. He can feel his head start to clear just a little. 

Harry looks over at him, eyebrows up, a gleeful smile on his face. “You _heard_ him? Do tell Liam,” he says, looking delighted. 

Liam feels his face flush at that. “Wasn’t trying to,” he mutters. “His room’s next to mine.” Life would make more sense if he hadn’t heard it. He wishes he could unhear it. “And lately he’s got, I dunno, bruises and scratches, and marks.” Liam feels weird saying it out loud, like telling Harry what he’s noticed makes it real. 

Harry shakes his hair out of his face. “Yeah,” he says as he breathes deeply. “That’s his thing these days. It’s not my place to tell,” Harry says, waving his arm vaguely. His tone changes to something playful. “Though, I get it. I like a little bit of pain myself,” he says with an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows and a filthy smile Liam’s seen him use a time or two. 

“What does it mean?” Liam says plaintively. 

Harry laughs. “Doesn’t mean anything, Liam. Means that’s what he likes.” 

He’s quiet for a bit after that, letting Liam mull it over in his head. 

When Harry’s run is over and he’s standing there on the treadmill catching his breath, he leans over and says, “You don’t have to fix him, Liam. Liking it, liking to be hurt, doesn’t mean that anything’s broken. It’s what he likes.” He pats Liam on the back. “See you at breakfast.” 

* 

 

Liam runs five miles and lifts weights for close to an hour and spends the whole time thinking about what Harry said. He’s sore and soaked in sweat by the time he finishes and makes it back up to his room. He showers for close to half an hour, letting the water ease the ache in his muscles. He thinks of having a wank but decides against it and stands beneath the spray until his skin has gone wrinkled and he feels ready to face the rest of the day.

He climbs out of the shower and there’s a knock on the door. He dries himself quickly, wraps the towel around his waist and goes to answer the door. He’s learned the hard way to always check to see who it is. It’s Niall.

“Hey, Nialler,” Liam says. Niall’s wearing an old hoodie that might be Zayn’s, the hood pulled up over his head. His shorts are hanging off his hips and he’s tucked his feet into brand new Air Jordans, laces undone.

He looks embarrassed, Liam realizes as he holds the door open and gestures for him to come in.

“Alright?” He’s aware of how naked he is at the moment. “Give us a second, yeah? I’m just gonna pull on some pants.”

He rustles through his luggage until he finds a clean pair of boxers and pulls them on under his towel. “Cheers,” he says with a smile as he pulls a t-shirt over his head.

“What’s going on?” he says, kicking the towel aside.

“Harry mentioned something,” Niall says, tugging at the neck of his jumper like it’s suddenly too tight. He’s got a bruise on his throat, beneath his jaw that Liam hadn’t noticed earlier. He flushes because now he gets it, he knows what it means. “He said you heard me last night, with Jeremy.” He tugs the hood down and Liam can see him more clearly, can see more than one bruise on his skin. 

Liam feels the surprise hit him and knows it must show on his face. “Jeremy?” Jeremy works on their crew when they’re in the States, a stocky guy with stretched ears and a scorpion tattooed on his neck. He works on their sound team.

“Just wanted to apologize,” he says and he looks as uncomfortable as Liam’s ever seen him. Liam hates it. 

“Hey, Niall,” he says, stepping in and putting a hand on his arm. He ducks his head and their foreheads knock together. “It’s fine.”

Nothing’s really _fine_ though because Liam can’t stop thinking about Niall getting marked up and getting off on it. He can’t stop thinking about the way he sounded through the hotel walls, the way Liam felt it deep in his stomach, the way it made him hot all over.

He can’t say any of that though, can barely wrap his head around it. All he can do is try to be a mate and not make this any worse, or more uncomfortable, than it is already.

“Can I ask something?” Liam says slowly, carefully, not wanting to push. 

Niall looks up and their heads bump. Niall winces and steps away, sits himself at the edge of the low table just inside the door. “Yeah, you can,” he says, tilting his head.

“Why’s it a secret?” Liam asks. “You and Jeremy, I mean.” 

Niall pushes his hair off his forehead and shrugs, tucking his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “No, it’s not. Liam, I just don’t go around blabbing my business.”

Liam knows this. “Keep myself to myself, don’t I,” he’s said more than once. But this feels like a secret. Liam doesn’t like secrets, and he doesn’t like feeling like there’s something about Niall he doesn’t know. 

“So,” Liam says, trying to sort it out in his head, “If you’re together, you and Jeremy -” 

“No, Liam,” Niall cuts in, frowning “It’s not. It’s not like that. We aren’t _together_.” He huffs and Liam would smile at that, the way it makes Niall’s nose scrunch up and his eyebrows knit together, but it’s not the time. 

“But then, what?’ Liam mutters. “I _heard_ you.” He knows what he heard, maybe it took a minute for him to get it, but that was Niall getting off with someone’s hands on him, marking his skin and making him cry out.

“Fuck,” Niall says, standing abruptly, his face going pink. “I said I was sorry.” Liam hates the way Niall says it like it’s something to be embarrassed about. Liam’s making a cock up of everything right now. He wonders what Niall would say if Liam told him about locking himself in the toilet and having a wank.

“Niall.” Liam steps into Niall’s space and Niall backs up into the table, a hand behind himself bracing his weight. Like this, with his back bowed and his head back, he’s looking up at Liam. 

“Sorry,” Liam says and takes a step back, just enough that Niall can stand. They’re close though and Liam can feel Niall’s heartbeat. 

“I’m trying to understand,” Liam admits. “If you and Jeremy aren’t dating or whatever, then what are you doing?” 

“I dunno why I’m telling you this,” Niall mumbles. “It’s not any of your business.” He pauses. “I don’t know how to explain it, alright? He just - he helps me.” 

Liam doesn’t know what that means and it isn’t the answer he was expecting. “He helps you?” 

“Yes. Like.” He stops and Liam can see him thinking about it like he’s finding the right words. “Okay, you know how when Zayn disappears and we just let him? Or when Harry stays on the bus with Lou and Tom? It’s like that.” 

If anything, Liam’s more confused. 

“Sometimes I just need, I dunno, _something_ , and he gives it to me.”

“Something,’” Liam says quietly, a piece clicking into place. There’s a bruise at Niall’s collarbone, barely visible in the neck of his jumper. “Something like this?” he says, pulling Niall’s jumper aside and touching his thumb to it. 

It’s like flipping a switch. “Yes, fuck,” Niall hisses and darts out of the way, scowling. “Liam,” he says and he pushes angrily at Liam’s shoulder. Niall doesn’t get angry. Ever. But he’s mad now. “Stop. I told you.” He’s breathing heavily and there’s so much emotion in his eyes Liam has to look away, his chest tight. “I hate that you do this to me,” Niall says, his voice going quiet. “If you’re offering me something right now, you have to mean it.” He stops and takes a breath. “But I don’t think you do.” He tugs his hood up over his head and he looks little and hunched. “I’m sorry for last night,” he says before he lets himself out. 

 

*

 

Everything’s a mess. Liam can’t remember the last time he had a row with Niall, if that’s what this is. 

He and Harry have a radio interview a little before noon and on the drive over to the station, Liam says, “Niall came to mine to apologize.” 

Harry looks up from his moleskin. “And?” 

“And what? We talked. He said sorry.” 

“Liam.” Harry says his name like it has five syllables, draws it out. 

“Harry,” Liam intones. 

Harry puts his book down. “It’s okay if you like Niall,” he says with this earnest little curve of his mouth. 

Liam doesn’t know what to say to that. He wants to be mad at Harry for saying something to Niall, but there’s no use. They don’t keep things from each other, none of them have, and Liam’s mostly mad with himself for making a mess of things because his own head is so jumbled up he can’t sort anything out. 

“I think I might,” he says finally, quietly. He can’t look at Harry, just stares down at his hands, picking at the hole in his jeans. 

“Okay,” Harry says to him as if Liam hasn’t just admitted something terrifying and potentially life changing. “What are you going to do about it?” 

“Dunno, haven’t got that far yet, to be honest. Still in the freaking out about it stage,” he mutters and smiles a little when Harry laughs. 

“Why? Not because he’s a guy, though is it?” Harry pulls a face. 

Part of Liam will be forever thankful for that week at Harry’s family’s cottage when all their secrets came spilling out and he said carefully, quietly, terrified they might judge him, “I think I fancy boys as well as girls.” 

“No,” Liam says. That part is easy. It’s what he wants to do with Niall that’s new. “It’s just new, isn’t it?” he says. “Never thought about Niall like that before.” 

Harry nudges Liam until Liam looks over to see Harry making a ridiculous face, waggling his eyebrows. “Our little Niall’s all grown up.” 

Liam’s face goes hot but he laughs and feels lighter somehow. 

“Cheers, Harry,” he says, meaning it. 

 

* 

 

People are eating lunch and Liam is beyond hungry when he and Harry are taken to the venue. 

It’s like there’s an invisible cord now, between himself and Niall, a radar Liam didn’t have before making him more aware of Niall than he’d been before. Liam finds him as soon as he walks into the room, even in the middle of forty people. 

Niall’s got up for a second plate, piling it with potatoes when Liam comes up next to him. “Hi,” Liam says hopefully. 

Niall looks up, momentarily surprised, and then he smiles a crooked sort of half smile. “Payno,” he says in greeting. 

Liam lowers his voice and says, “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.” 

“It’s done, Liam,” Niall says easily, lifting a shoulder. “I’m not mad, and if I was, I couldn’t stay mad at you - at any of you lads - for long.” 

That’s the easy part, the part where Niall just knows how to let things go. When he’s angry, it’s sharp and burns bright before it fizzles and is forgotten. Liam knows he’s forgiven when Niall says, “Hungry? Could get you a plate.” 

“Okay,” Liam agrees and takes Niall’s plate from him and heads to a table. 

Niall comes over carrying more food than Liam could possibly eat. “Cheers,” Liam says. “You going to help me eat some of this?” 

Niall sits down opposite Liam with his own food. “Might do, yeah,” he shrugs and kicks playfully at Liam’s feet. Liam grins down at the table and his stomach goes warm at the way Niall smiles at him. 

 

* 

 

Liam's sitting at the edge of the stage, bare feet kicking against the metal. He's supposed to be coming up with lyrics for the melody he and Jamie wrote in Nashville but his head isn't in it. There are dozens of people working around him in the arena, and the noises of getting everything set up for tonight are familiar.

It's a little before sound check when Liam looks up and sees Niall wander in. He's smiling and speaking to someone; eventually Liam can make out that it’s Jeremy, a hand on Niall’s back, leaning in to tell him something. 

Liam watches them. There's nothing really to indicate what they get up to behind closed doors but there's an easy familiarity between them, the comfortable way Jeremy touches Niall and the way Niall laughs and leans into Jeremy.

Liam sits there hidden behind a speaker and watches Jeremy’s hand dip down the back of Niall’s vest. Niall’s smile slips to something different, private, and his body curves subtly into Jeremy’s. It’s not enough to be noticeable, but Liam’s spent more time watching Niall the last week, has learned new things about his body language. 

Liam's palm itches and he scrubs it against the thigh of his shorts.

The fans are let in and Liam makes a place for himself between Niall and Harry, finding reasons to touch: an arm around Niall's shoulders, fingers at the back of his neck. He imagines Jeremy at the sound deck, watching, and something dark twists in his stomach. He digs his fingers into Niall’s hip where he remembers the flash of bruises being and feels Niall’s startled breath before he’s squirming away and laughing it off, playing it up for the fans. Niall’s the best of all of them at playing off the crowd’s reactions and now is no different. Liam imagines the fans on Twitter, or Tumblr, shouting about the two of them. It isn’t until it’s over, when Niall is flushed, that Liam realizes he’s irritated. They have several hours before they go on and everyone’s off in separate directions, except for Niall who’s pushing through the others, past Liam and saying quietly, “Liam, you have a second?” 

Liam follows Niall wordlessly offstage to a dark corner beneath the drum kit. It’s relatively private though Liam can hear the noises of the arena, the bustle of work around them. 

Niall takes his snapback off and wipes the back of his hand across his forehead. “Liam,” he says and some of the irritation seems to have dissolved slightly. He has a pinched look around his mouth but other than that he looks like he always does. “What are you doing? I thought - I told you, whatever you’re doing - you have to stop.” 

Liam feels that knotty feeling in his belly that he hates, the feeling that always comes when he’s disappointed someone, done something wrong. He frowns. “I was just - being friendly,” he says and he can hear how unbelievably stupid it sounds when he says it out loud. 

Niall laughs. Niall has lots of different laughs, Liam’s learned them over the years. This is the one he likes the least, bitter and angry. Niall uses laughter as a defense, the way Harry uses kindness and Louis uses humor. “That wasn’t _friendly_ , Liam,” Niall says, his tone tinged with exasperation. Liam doesn’t like the way it sounds, coming from Niall. “Dunno what it was, but you’ve been acting weird for days now. Ever since -” he stops, frowning. “Ever since Atlanta,” he finishes slowly like he’s figured something out. 

“You’re angry,” Liam says stupidly. 

“‘Course I am, ‘cause now you’re acting like a jealous twat.” Niall presses his thumb to his mouth, teeth working at the nail. Liam’s surprised by the irritation in the way he says it and just barely stops himself from physically recoiling, like Niall lashed out and hit him. 

Liam can’t even argue. He is. He knows it. Everything about how he’s behaving screams jealous boyfriend. But he can’t stop thinking about the way Jeremy had touched Niall, casual but possessive, like Niall was something that was _his_. Liam doesn’t want Niall to be Jeremy’s. 

“I know I am,” Liam admits a little helplessly, rubbing a hand over his face and wishing he could get his head sorted. Fuck, it’s hot and sticky; he’s uncomfortable in his sweaty clothes and he’d rather be anywhere than here having this conversation. 

_I like you so much,_ Liam thinks and then feels terrified by it, like thinking it makes it real and impossible to ignore. He should say it. He should tell Niall. 

It seems strange that only days ago everything was fine, normal. He wishes he could erase it all and go back to the way it was, when he wasn’t confused about wanting to touch Niall all the time and wanting to see him come undone, when he wasn’t hot all over with jealousy because someone else was giving Niall what he wanted. 

Niall looks surprised, like he hadn’t expected Liam to admit it. His expression shifts, softens. “You don’t get to do that, Liam,” he says. “You don’t get to be jealous.” 

 

*

 

Liam himself doesn't understand it, wanting to be pinched and bitten and scratched. He's grown accustomed to Louis's hands on him over the last three years, Louis's fingers pinching him, hands pulling his hair. He puts up with it because he finally figured out that it was Louis's way of saying, "Hey, I like you, you're welcome here." Louis behaves a lot like a five year old pulling pigtails.

He does understand needing to get outside of your own head. Boxing, working out in the gym, that's how he lets go of the stress and the tension when things get to be too much.

After the first show in Long Island, Liam forgoes sleeping on the bus in favor of a bed and a shower. He’s tired but wired and there’s a little buzz of something that feels like anticipation thrumming beneath his skin, settling in his bones. 

He has a long, hot shower and dresses in pants and a t-shirt. He settles in the middle of the laughably large bed with his laptop. He’s doing research, he tells himself as he boots up the computer.

He doesn’t know the exact term for what Niall seems to like so he starts by typing “pain” into the Google search bar. The results are less than helpful. He gets the definition of pain - “an unpleasant feeling often caused by intense or damaging stimuli” - and a load of links for managing pain.

He thinks about it for a moment and types “people who like pain” into the search bar. He learns that there’s a word for it, along with a word for people who enjoy inflicting pain. He clicks on a Wikipedia link and skims down the page, stumbling over words he’s never seen before and doesn’t know how to pronounce. Towards the bottom he finds something that’s actually helpful.

“Masochist,” he reads to himself, making the shape of the word with his mouth, imagining he can feel the weight of it on his tongue. He knows what it means, he’s heard it and the other side of it, before. But it’s different to be faced with it in relation to Niall, to know the way it applies to him. He reads further. There are classifications, and there under the third bullet point he finds what he’s been trying to understand. “Preference for pain and/or humiliation which facilitates orgasm but isn’t necessary to orgasm.” He clicks out of Wikipedia and types “masochism” into google.

The first thing that comes up is a dictionary definition. _The tendency to derive pleasure, especially sexual gratification, from one’s own pain and humiliation._ His throat is tight, mouth dry as he reads it again, and again, letting it sink into his brain, until the words lose their meaning.

He thinks about the last few days, about what happened on the bus, the way Niall’s face went pink and his eyes went all hazy. He thinks about the way Niall shoves Louis’s hand away on stage when he pokes at his nipples, the way he wiggles away quickly when Liam tackles him to the floor in front of thousands of teenage girls, eyes squinty with laughter and quick to brush it off. He thinks about that night in Raleigh, the way Niall had sounded.

He pushes the laptop aside and palms his cock through the thin cotton of his pants. He’s half hard and there’s a heat in his belly. He leans back into the pillows, playing with himself through his underwear. He closes his eyes and pictures Niall, the way they were on the floor of the bus, Niall laid out beneath him, his breathing quick, his fingers clenched into fists.

Liam touches himself with a firmer grip and thinks about what Niall might have looked like if Liam had ducked down and scraped his teeth along the welt on his stomach. His own breathing quickens as he pictures it, the noises Niall would have made, the way he might have pushed his hips up off the floor, threaded his fingers through Liam’s hair and urged him to keep going.

He thinks about the flush on Niall’s cheeks, about the way it spread down his throat and he thinks about pressing bruises to the hollow, the dip beneath his jaw. He’s proper hard now, the head of his cock poking up out of the waist of his pants. He tugs them down beneath his balls and wraps his fingers around himself.

He doesn’t bother pretending this isn’t about Niall. His skin is hot with the memory of the way Niall had reacted with his entire body when Liam touched him, the way he’d melted into him when he’d pressed him into the wall in his hotel room, the way his breathing quickened. Liam knows now what he wants. 

Liam works his hand harder over his cock but he doesn’t speed up. It’s been a long time since he’s let himself just enjoy it and he takes his time with it, changes the rhythm, reaches down to roll his balls between his fingers, circles his thumb at the head, playing in the clear pre-come that’s leaking there. 

He’s stuck on the way Niall felt against him, loose and warm, cozy, in his joggers, his cock hard and pressed up against Liam’s hip. He changes it in his head, imagines what it would have been like if he’d backed Niall into the wall, used his hips to pin him there and watch him go to pieces, the sounds he’d make and the way he’d cling to Liam. 

Liam’s breathing hard and fuck he’s going to come faster than he’d like thinking about Niall and getting him beneath him, marking him up, making him blow his load. He works himself faster and he feels it start deep in his stomach. He breathes out in surprise at how hard it hits him, his back bowing and his hips fucking up into his hand as he comes all over his fist and belly, his jizz warm against his skin. He breathes through it, tiny little aftershocks running through his bones.

He strips out of his pants and uses them to wipe his stomach and thighs where they’re wet with his come. In the bathroom he wipes himself down with a wet flannel. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, sweat damp hair in his eyes, cheeks flushed, and thinks about Niall like this, about the two of them together.

He climbs back into bed, rolls to his stomach and closes his eyes. His skin still feels tingly. He can’t get the images out of his head now that he’s read about it, can’t help but press his hips into the mattress, ready to go again. 

 

*

 

There’s an early bus call the following morning - they have a long drive to Montreal - and Liam wakes up feeling like he could sleep for two full days and still be exhausted. He reeks of spunk and sweat and his body goes tight with the memory of wanking over and over while he thought about Niall. Liam’s pretty at ease these days in his own skin; he’s worked hard for the self-assuredness and pride in his body. He’s not all that fond of the thought of people knowing what he got up to last night, so he spares a few minutes for a fast shower, scrubbing at his skin until it’s pink and he no longer smells like he spent the better part of a night having a wank. By the time he’s dressed and packed he’s worked himself up into a bit of a state over whether or not to go find Niall, and there’s no time left. He has to settle for talking to him on the bus. 

Niall is up at the front of the bus, his guitar on his lap. Liam sits down beside him.

“You probably don’t want to talk to me about this,” Liam says when the silence between them has stretched long enough. “And I understand, I’m not always the cleverest about things.”

Niall frowns, mouth turned down and he sets the guitar down on the seat beside him. “No, Liam,” Niall says. “That’s not true. You’re clever about loads of things. That’s not why.”

Liam’s mouth twists up. He hates the feeling that there’s something Niall needs that Liam can’t give him. He came so hard last night, thinking about hurting Niall, about his hands on Niall’s skin, giving him what he wanted. 

“I know it’s not normal,” Niall says, pressing the tips of his fingers to his lips. “I’m not bothered, not anymore, but I don’t talk about it either. Easier this way.” 

“Why Jeremy?” Liam asks before he realizes he’s doing it. He winces and makes a face. “It’s okay, you don’t have to answer that. It’s none of my business.” 

“I trust him,” Niall says, like it’s simple, like that’s all there is to it. Liam doesn’t know why but it makes him feel a tightness in his chest that he doesn’t like. 

“You could trust me,” he says quietly and he doesn’t know why he says it; he hasn’t though it through in the slightest but in the moment it feels like the right thing to say. 

“I know that, Liam,” he says, knocking his shoulder against Liam’s. “I do. I trust you boys with my life, don’t I.” He smiles wryly, lifting one shoulder. 

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Liam says quietly, carefully. “You could trust _me_.” 

Niall looks up sharply, brow furrowed like he’s unsure if Liam’s taking the piss or not. Niall’s unmoving and Liam feels panicked, like he’s started something he doesn’t understand. 

He hesitates, mouth dry and says, “I mean - Niall. What if. What if I wanted to do that. For you.” 

He watches a series of reactions flicker across Niall’s face before he settles on irritation. “Don’t,” he says and there’s that knot between his eyebrows that Liam so rarely sees. “Don’t say that because you think you need to fix me.”

Liam feels a prickle of alarm rush through him. That’s exactly what Harry had said to him. “No, Nialler, no,” he says. “That’s not why.” He takes a breath and tries to find the right words. “I can’t stop thinking about it,” he says quietly, watching Niall’s face. “You remember the night on the bus? I can’t stop thinking about doing that to you, being what you need. You told me not to mess you about. And I’m not going to. I want to. I want you.” 

Niall’s expression is unreadable and Liam’s not even sure he’s breathing. 

“Niall,” he says feeling slightly panicked. “Say something.” 

“Don’t,” Niall mumbles, “don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” 

He means it more than he wants to admit, but he doesn’t know how to explain to Niall that he got off hard last night, wanking himself to the image of his hands on Niall’s skin, of marking Niall up and giving him what he wants.

In the end he just opens his mouth and says, “I had a wank last night, came all over myself thinking about being that for you,” and it comes out a little breathless, a little desperate, laying himself out there like that. 

“Fuck, Liam,” Niall says. His fingers hover at his waist, playing with the drawstring of his trackies. “I don’t even know what to do with that.” 

“Why not? It’s the truth. I’m sorry for not saying something before, I’m sorry for making you think I was just having a laugh. I don’t really know what I’m doing, I’m not like Jeremy, but I’ll learn. I’ll figure it out, how to be what you need.” 

“Liam,” Niall says and Liam can’t tell if he’s laughing or choking or sobbing but a beat later Liam’s got a lapful of warm boy, Niall’s arms around his shoulders and his face burrowed in Liam’s throat. 

“You’re such an arse, Liam,” Niall half laughs into Liam’s skin. And then quietly, so low Liam almost misses it, “You’ve made a right mess of me.” 

Liam wraps his arms around Niall’s back and hugs him close, thinking, _same_.

“Hey,” Liam says after a minute, “can I ask you something? Can we - I dunno, can we talk about -” he trails off, unable to find the right words. 

Niall sits back, legs tangled up with Liam’s and says, “What do you want to know?” 

“I’m trying to understand, and I think I do - it’s like when the noise gets too loud in your head. I just - I suppose I’m asking, how did it start?” 

Niall puts his fingers to his mouth, not biting at his nails but this habit he has like he’s thinking about it. He does it when he’s nervous, fidgeting and trying to find the right thing to say. It happens the most in interviews and Liam’s not used to seeing it when it’s just them.

“Last summer, at the end of tour,” Niall says. “It happened once, I had a like a panic attack. I couldn’t find Paul and there was a crowd.” Niall takes a deep breath like he’s remembering the moment physically. Liam’s only seen Niall in an anxiety attack on a few occasions and he remembers being terrified the first time it happened. “Jeremy grabbed me by the back of my neck and hauled me out of there and when we were alone he just gave me something else to focus on, his fingers tight on my wrist. It hurt and it was like, the pain just brought me out of my head for a bit.”

Liam frowns and his stomach ties itself up in a knot that feels heavy and terrible. “Wait, he just grabbed you like that when you were upset?” He can feel himself getting anxious at the thought of Niall panicking and being yanked around. “Fuck, Niall.” He palms itch and he wants to punch something, someone. 

Niall’s eyes widen like he’s realized what’s going through Liam’s head. “No, oh, Liam, no.” Niall looks just as upset as Liam feels. “Shit, no. We talked about it first.” He breathes out. “Sorry, I should have said. No, he told me before what he wanted to do. It was kind of sweet, actually, I didn’t know him that well yet and he was talking low and quiet and it was nice and I could feel myself start to come out of it. He told me what he wanted to do.” Niall shrugs then. “You know how when Louis messes about and he’s pinching and just being a knob? I always kind of liked that, so it made sense to me, I think? That I might like it if Jeremy hurt me a little.” 

Liam breathes out and feels himself start to settle. He’s quiet for a bit as he thinks about what Niall’s told him. “I never knew you needed that,” he admits. He wonders if he’ll always be jealous that Jeremy was the one to figure it out. 

Niall sits up then and shifts so he’s looking Liam in the eye. “I didn’t either. But I figured out that all of the other noise in my head just goes away when he’s hurting me. It’s like there’s nothing else but the pain. It was after that I figured out how much I like it. I don’t need it, not as much anymore, but I like it.” He smiles this flushed little half smile. “I like it a lot.” He pauses. “It’s so good,” he breathes.

This is what Liam finds so compelling. This is what he wants to do for Niall.

Liam curves his fingers around the back of Niall’s neck. Niall hums in pleasure and tilts his head back slightly for more pressure on his skin. Liam digs his thumb into the dip at the base of Niall’s skull. “Do you think - maybe I could be that for you?” He’s not sure what, exactly, he’s asking. It’s all tangled together in his head, wanting Niall and wanting to give him the pain he likes, it’s all come about so quickly and Liam’s trying to catch up and not make even more of a mess of everything. 

“You can,” Niall agrees. “But Liam, you don’t have to. It’s - I like it, right? I like it so much, but if you don’t want to - if you’re not into it, I don’t need it.” Niall shakes his head with a tiny laugh edged in disbelief. “I’ve just. I’ve liked you or ages, just about. Kind of feels like forever and it’s all a little unbelievable that you’re into me, too.” 

Liam feels his pulse skip, his breath caught in the tightness in his chest. “I am, Niall. I want to.” 

Niall’s whole face lights up with his smile. Liam loves the way his eyes go soft and crinkled when he grins like that. “Good,” he mumbles, the side of his mouth crooking up. He has this way of speaking out of the corner of his mouth sometimes that Liam thinks is cute and kind of sexy. Fuck, he doesn’t know when he started noticing so much. “Not here, though. Don’t want to give the lads a show.” 

Liam laughs. “Right, not a good idea.” He re-settles himself more comfortably beside Niall. “What were you playing? Play something for me.” 

 

* 

 

They spend the majority of the journey like that, together in the front of the bus. Liam listens to Niall play, watches his fingers on the strings and the way his face lights up when he’s in his element like this. 

The bus takes them straight to the venue and Liam feels jittery and antsy, ready to burn off all his nerves. 

“See you for dinner, yeah?” Niall’s got his guitar in one hand and his bag in the other, his snapback on backwards and Liam thinks for one second what it would be like if he kissed him then, right there on the bus because he wants to, because that’s a thing he wants to do with Niall now. 

“I’ll see you then, yeah,” Liam settles on.

Liam changes into a pair of old shorts and a vest and twenty minutes later he and Mark are in the shaded space behind the buses, sparring. It’s hot, that sticky kind of heat that has Liam soaked in sweat not five minutes in. His eyes sting with it and it’s tough to breathe through it. It doesn’t help that his head isn’t in it. He keeps thinking about where Niall’s gone off to and about finding him later and maybe, finally, kissing him.

“Shit,” Liam hisses when Mark accidentally knocks him in the chin because Liam wasn’t quite quick enough to dodge out of the way. 

“Liam, hey,” Mark says sharply, “what’s going on with you today?” 

“Fuck,” Liam grits, working his jaw loose. “Just a bit distracted,” he mutters and puts his gloves up again. “C’mon, it’s fine, let’s go again.” 

Mark doesn’t let up or take it easy and after an hour he chucks his gloves down and says, “Right, go shower. We’ll try again tomorrow.” 

Liam spends twenty minutes under a lukewarm spray, washing away the sweat and the sting in his muscles. 

He’s dressed in clean shorts and a Marvel t-shirt he got off Zayn that’s tight in the shoulders and not quite long enough but he can’t be bothered to find anything else. 

“Liam,” Niall says as he’s coming out of the bathroom at one end of the quiet corridor between dressing rooms. “Been looking for you.” His face is pink like he’s been out in the sun, his skin damp with sweat. 

“Was going to come find you,” Liam admits and glances down the corridor. It’s empty; they’re alone for the moment. It’s not a good idea - anyone could wander down this way - but he puts one hand on Niall’s hips and backs him against the wall, the other at the small of his back. 

“Hi,” Niall says breathlessly. “What’s going on?” He lets his head fall back against the wall. smiles up at Liam and tangles his fingers in the hem of Liam’s t-shirt.

Liam lifts his chin to show Niall the faint bruise beginning to blossom on his skin, already tender. “Got clocked in the jaw,” he says and smiles faintly, sheepishly. “I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Niall winces sympathetically and reaches up, fingers tentative against Liam’s jaw, stroking over the tender skin. “Does it hurt?” 

“It did, yeah.” Liam can’t breathe between the gentle way Niall’s touching him and the fond way he’s looking at him. “It’s just a bit sore now,” he says.

Niall hums a little. “I could kiss it better for you, if you like?” His eyes are smiling and it’s playful but Liam feels it go through him, hot and electric. 

“You could do,” Liam agrees and steps closer, tilting his head to the side in invitation. 

Niall’s lips are warm and soft against his skin, just a quick, chaste brush of a kiss on his jaw. 

“Better?” Niall mumbles and Liam can hear the smile in his voice. 

Liam shakes his head. “Might need another one, still hurts.” 

Niall kisses Liam again and as he’s moving away Liam takes a breath and tilts his head, catching Niall’s mouth with his own. Niall goes still for a split second and then he breathes out against Liam’s mouth and surges into it, tightening his grip in Liam’s shirt and tugging him forward. 

Liam kisses Niall until he’s forgotten to breathe, his pulse wild in his throat and Niall tucked up against him, his own breathing just as harsh and frantic. 

Liam pulls away just to catch his breath and realizes just how exposed they are. Anyone could walk around the corner and see them like this. 

“Better stop,” he says, a little apologetically, and winces - ever the sensible one, he is. He doesn’t _feel_ sensible. He feels reckless. 

“Okay,” Niall says breathlessly. He’s quiet for a second, just watching Liam. He closes his eyes and breathes out, “Fuck, you make me so hard.” Liam’s breath catches in his throat. He loves the way Niall says things like that without any thought to the consequences. 

“I meant it you know,” Liam says quietly, pressing his fingertips harder into Niall’s skin. This is the wrong time and place but he can feel his cock getting hard just from having Niall here. “I want to - to be with you. If you want to.”

“Are you out of your head? Of course I want to.” He closes his eyes again he’s trying to get his bearings. “I’ve wanted to for ages, Liam,” he mumbles, ducking his head and pressing his forehead against Liam’s shoulder. “You don’t know, shit,” he mumbles, lips moving against Liam’s bare skin. “You don’t know what you do to me.” 

Liam _does_ know. Now he does, now he gets it, but he likes hearing Niall say it. He likes knowing for sure that Niall wants this, wants him. 

“Yeah?” Liam breathes. He tightens his grip on Niall’s waist, pulling him closer. His heart is hammering like it might beat right out of his chest. Niall is smaller than him, wiry and slight and it feels different to having a girl pressed up against him. But he’s half hard from the shape of Niall’s hips against his, the strength in him. It’s different but so _good_. 

There’s a commotion down at the end of the corridor and Liam pulls away abruptly, letting Niall go and watching the disappointment flicker across his face, the same disappointment that settles in Liam’s stomach. 

He steps away and puts some distance between them, tugging at the hem of his top because his trackies probably do nothing to hide the shape of his erection. 

When he glances over, Niall’s leaning against the wall, head back. He’s got his palm pressed to the front of his shorts and his eyes are closed. For the first time in his life, Liam thinks about going to his knees and pressing his face to the front of Niall’s shorts, of what what it would be like to get his mouth on a cock. On _Niall’s_ cock. 

“We better go,” Liam says, rubbing a hand over his jaw. Another minute of this and he’s going to drag Niall off to somewhere dark and private. 

 

* 

 

Liam can’t stop grinning that night, on stage at the Bell Centre for twenty-one thousand people. He feels unstoppable, like he can do anything, and Niall’s right there with him, flirting with the crowd, shimmying and dancing and throwing his entire body into performing for them.

Liam gravitates to him, can’t help touching his hip when they pass each other on the catwalk, ducks his head to whisper into his ear with a hand at the small of Niall’s back, noting the way Niall curves his body towards his.

The five of them stumble off stage and Liam finds Niall, stripping out of his sweaty vest. Their eyes meet and he swears he can feel the air between them sizzle and crackle like right before a good summer storm. Niall grins and cocks his head, a silent question and Liam tries to make the _yes_ as clear as possible. 

They find a supply cupboard that’s unlocked - Liam fumbles the light on and he and Niall go stumbling into it, reaching for one another. 

He can’t help thinking he knew they’d end up like this, adrenaline coursing through the both of them, breathing frantically into one another’s mouths.

“Niall,” Liam breathes, gripping him by his skinny hips and hauling him forward.

Niall laughs breathlessly into Liam’s mouth and wraps his arms around Liam’s neck, pressing his bare chest to Liam’s.

Liam presses his fingertips into Niall’s skin, feeling the muscles tighten and flex beneath his hands and imagines leaving behind his fingerprints, bruises shaped like him. The thought makes him want to, makes him press harder into Niall’s skin before letting go. 

“No,” Niall pants, clinging, “you can,” he urges. He digs his fingers into Liam’s hips, pulling him closer. “Go on, Liam,” he says breathlessly. “I want you to.”

Christ, Niall’s going to kill him. The way Niall grants him explicit permission thrills him in a way he wasn’t expecting. Niall pushes his hips forward, back bowing, and Liam’s fingers dig into his skin. “Do it,” Niall pants. Liam drags his nails down Niall’s skin, for once not being gentle. Niall gasps, clinging to Liam and arching and begging with his entire body.

“Again,” Niall breathes. Liam moves his hand up higher, supporting Niall’s weight against him with an arm around his narrow hips, braces them against one another and brings his nails down again, digging a little harder down Niall’s spine.

Niall’s shaking. One arm’s wrapped around Liam’s neck, clinging, the other fisted in Liam’s t-shirt and he’s trembling.

Liam can feel how hard Niall is, pressed up against his hip and it makes him want to keep going, to see what else Niall likes and how to make him come.

There’s a knock at the door and then Harry’s voice coming through. “You’ve got ten minutes,” Harry says, and Liam can almost hear the cheeky grin, “before Basil’s coming to look for you. Might want to hurry it up.”

Liam might spare a thought to feeling embarrassed if he hadn’t caught Harry in more than one compromising position over the years. He bites his lip, grinning, and Niall just laughs breathlessly. “Cheers, Harry, catch you in ten. Now go away.”

“You got it,” Harry calls cheerfully. “Play safe.”

Liam slips his hand down the back of Niall’s jeans, cupping his bum and hoisting him firmly up against him. “Wish we had more time.” He drags his free hand down Niall’s spine again, digging his nails into his skin. Niall anchors himself against Liam with his arm around his neck and there’s no place they aren’t touching. 

“This is so good,” Niall sighs against Liam’s mouth. “Keep going.” 

Liam tightens his grip on Niall’s arse. His cock is so hard. The tiny space smells like sweat and the air is sticky and he can’t remember the last time he did something like this, got off in a cupboard. 

“Can you come like this?” Liam doesn’t love coming in his pants, his body’s sweat soaked and it’s going to be disgusting but he doesn’t care at this point. 

Niall huffs. “Yeah, probably not long,” he breathes and tucks his face into against Liam’s throat. Liam feels him breathe in, nose rubbing against Liam’s skin.

Liam shuffles backwards until his back’s against the wall, kicking a bucket and stumbling as he does. He laughs at the ridiculousness of what’s happening right now, completely consumed with getting off with Niall. 

Liam slots a thigh between Niall’s and braces himself against the wall. Niall’s mouth is hot and open against his and they aren’t kissing so much as breathing against one another. Niall’s bum is warm against Liam’s palm and he digs his fingers in a little, squeezing. 

“Yeah, do that,” Niall pants mindlessly, full on rubbing off against Liam’s thigh now. 

It’s so sexy, Niall against him like this and it’s not ideal, coming in his jeans but fuck, he’ll take it.

Liam ducks his head and presses his mouth to Niall’s pulse and sucks at his skin, trying not to leave a mark but letting his teeth graze the skin. 

“Not fair,” Niall moans. His fingers curl tight at the back of Liam’s neck, he hunches closer and Liam feels him shudder as he comes with a low groan. 

Niall kind of dissolves against him, going limp and loose, still clinging. “You cheated,” he breathes. 

“Did not,” Liam smiles though it’s strained, his cock trapped uncomfortably in his jeans, still achingly hard. 

Niall just hums. He’s nuzzling Liam’s throat, darting little kisses in an aimless pattern on his skin and Liam’s mindless with how good it feels, completely distracted so that when Niall slips a hand between them and cups Liam’s cock through his jeans, he’s taken by surprise. 

Niall knows his way around a cock, Liam thinks absurdly, fingers curling tight around him even through the bulk of his jeans and pants. Liam wants his hand on him for real but he settles for coming like this, his head hitting the wall with a thud that makes him wince. “Fuck,” he says and bites his lip. It’s the messiest, most awkward orgasm he’s had since he was fourteen and hiding under the blankets with the boy who lived down the road. Against him, Niall’s still shuddering, hips twitching against Liam, fingers curled in Liam’s hair. 

“I think we can do better than that,” Liam mutters as he catches his breath, wiping at the sweat dripping in his eyes. 

“Dunno,” Niall huffs. “I thought that was pretty good.” 

Liam’s body is humming and he doesn’t say so out loud but yeah, it was pretty good. He lets Niall go and closes his eyes, leaning back against the wall that smells like bleach. “I can’t believe that just happened,” he says, his chest gone tight with a giddy sort of happiness. He feels gross, sweat and come cooling but it’s good. Haven’t come in my pants like that in ages.” 

“I feel disgusting,” Niall breathes out against Liam’s cheek, his chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. “I’m gonna go change.” He pulls back, eyes bright and temples damp with sweat. “Come to bus two with me.” They’re headed back to the States for two days in Hershey. Liam wishes they weren’t sleeping on the bus but they have a six hour drive ahead of them and a night in their bunks. Liam knows nothing’s going to happen in the narrow space of a bunk.

“Okay. Shall I go out first?” 

Niall laughs. “Payno,” he says fondly, “I’m pretty sure it’s obvious what we’ve been doing. But go on.” 

“See you on the bus,” Liam says, extracting himself from Niall and slipping out of the cupboard. 

Zayn’s half dressed and laughing when Liam comes into the dressing room. He knows what he must look like and he imagines he reeks of sex. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his face flushed. 

“Here,” Zayn calls, throwing Liam a towel. “Paul’s looking for you. Get your arse moving.” 

“Cheers,” Liam grins, only a little embarrassed. 

They cover for each other, that’s what they do, one of dozens of benefits of being in a group with four other lads. Liam wonders if it’s going to be awkward now that it’s him and Niall the others are covering for. 

Liam ducks into the bathroom and takes a minute to strip out of his clothes and wipe himself down. He puts on clean trackies and and a vest and runs out in time for Paul to yell at him. 

“Sorry,” Liam says and pulls a face, the one Ruth says could melt ice. It doesn’t always work for him but it’s always worked on Paul. Paul’s a big softy for the five of them. 

Paul sighs and swats at the back of Liam’s head but it’s fond. “Get on the bus,” he says. 

Liam grins and knocks his shoulder into Paul’s. 

He and Niall end up in the back of the quiet bus with the telly on low, catching up on episodes of Master Chef. It’s dark, the lights dimmed, and Liam’s feeling that strange post-show mix of sleepy and buzzed.

“You falling asleep?” Niall asks, turning his cheek to look at Liam.

“Mm, no.” He could, just like this, with Niall tucked up next to him and the hum of the bus lulling him. But his head is an echo of all these questions he has, things he hasn’t stopped thinking about.

He’s got one arm across the back of the sofa and he drops the other, running his palm down Niall’s side. “Can I ask you something?” he says quietly.

Niall tips his head back on Liam’s shoulder. He’s wearing his favorite snapback of the moment, one he got when they were in Mexico City. He looks up from beneath the brim and his smile is upside down. “Course you can.”

“It’s about Jeremy,” Liam says carefully.

“Okay,” Niall agrees and fumbles for the remote to lower the volume. “What do you want to know?” Liam doesn’t know how to ask what he’s thinking. “Liam,” Niall says sitting up and turning sideways on the seat so he’s looking at Liam. He’s chewing on his lip and his eyes are bright. “We never had sex. I know that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Then I don’t understand,” Liam admits.

“It’s not - it was never - like that with us,” Niall shrugs. “Dunno if I can really explain it, we just. He never touched me like that.”

“Why not?” Liam can’t help saying.

“Dunno, really, Jeremy just made it clear from the start that he’d hit me or bruise me, whatever I wanted, but that was it.”

It doesn’t make sense to Liam - he doesn’t know how Jeremy could see Niall like that, flushed and turned on and begging for it and just walk away after.

"Did you want to - I don't know - be with him? In that way?"

Niall tangles fingers in his laces and pulls. "No. Wouldn't have mattered anyway."

"Wanting to have sex, it doesn’t have to mean anything," Niall says carefully. “Not always, sometimes it’s just fun. It’s just getting off.”

Liam’s stomach does something unpleasant, a tangled knot. His throat is dry. "It would for me," he says abruptly, not intending for it to come off as sharp as it does. He lowers his voice and tries to soften it. "I couldn't - I can't do that with you and not have it mean something."

Niall tilts his face up. "I know that,” he says with a little frown. "What do you think I go to Jeremy for?" He mumbles something Liam can't make out and then says clearly, "I didn't know you were an option."

"I didn't know I was either," Liam admits. He tries to find the right words to explain. "Things just started to finally make sense. So like, when you were together. What did he do? What did you do?”

“Whatever he felt like. Sometimes he’d scratch me or pinch me, sometimes he’d hit me. I’d have a wank - he always waited until I was done - and that was it.” There’s a flush on Niall’s cheeks that spreads to his throat, the top of his t-shirt. Liam can see from the way he’s breathing that just thinking about it is turning Niall on.

Liam wants to listen to Niall talk about it, he wants to watch his eyes go dark and his breaths go stuttered. “Did you come? When he was hitting you?

Niall sucks in a surprised breath. “Yeah, yes,” he hisses, “every time.” He rubs his fingers over the knee of his trackies, fidgeting. “I dunno how to explain it, Liam,” he says. “Nothing feels as good as when I come like that.”

Liam can’t tell if it’s just arousal that’s making Niall’s face pink like that and he doesn’t want to make this uncomfortable or awkward for him. He’s fascinated by the way talking about it makes Niall look. He says, “You don’t have to – we don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want.” But Liam does, so much. “I don’t want to make you embarrassed.”

Niall makes a rough sound like a huff of laughter. “No, I think – I like it.” He laughs for real then, pitching forward and tucking his face against Liam’s arm. “I dunno, I like telling you about it – it’s like I am embarrassed, a bit, but I’m not? I don’t know if I can explain it.”

“Okay,” Liam agrees quietly, “so just tell me, please, you don’t have to explain. I just like listening to you talk about it.” He gets an arm around Niall and hauls him up against his side, fingers gripping his hip.

The sound Niall makes against Liam’s skin is low and pleased, like the rumble of a purr and Liam feels it move through him slow and warm, lighting him up from the inside.

Niall doesn’t say anything for a beat and Liam knows he’s thinking of what to say. “He used a belt,” he tells Liam. Liam’s whole face goes hot and he tightens his grip, fingers digging into the meat of Niall’s hip.

“Just once,” Niall says. “It hurt more than anything else. I asked him to do it, told him it was okay, and he did.”

Liam’s throat is dry and he’s sure Niall can feel how hard his heart is beating. “Did you like it?”

Niall lifts his head from Liam’s shoulder and Liam forgets to breathe. His mouth his pink, lower lip puffed up and swollen from chewing on it and there’s a faint sheen on his skin. 

“Yeah,” Niall whispers. “I really did.” The face he makes then is embarrassed and his lips go up in a faint smile. “Came really fast then, though. It was over too quick. I remember thinking about it, wanting to ask him for it and it was like - it was like it was just so much better than I’d thought. He had me count them, out loud, the number of lashes, and I came before he’d got past four.” He presses his palm over his eyes, remembering. Jesus.

"What else?" Liam asks, still touching Niall, fingers stroking his hip.

Niall's breathing stutters. "Um, spanking's good," he breathes. "We only - only once, the next day was the worst, couldn't feel me arse, sitting was miserable."

The thought of Niall's bum, pink and sore from a good spanking makes Liam want to push him to his belly and try it now. He cups his cock and he’s so hard from this, from listening to Niall talk about all of it.

"Did you like it?" Liam asks even though he knows the answer, can feel it in the way Niall breathes against him.

Niall turns his face into Liam's shoulder and takes a deep breath. "Fuck, yes, it was so good. Hottest thing ever, just about."

"Tell me about it," Liam says. 

"It hurt, it really hurt, but I was so hard the whole time. He kept changing it around, making me wait so I never knew when the next one would come. Think that was part of what made it so good. And when he did hit me I thought I would come just from his hand on my bum."

Liam’s hard from listening to Niall talk, from the images flashing through his head. “Come here,” Liam says to Niall, pulling at his shirt. “Like this,” he urges and hauls him up and over until Niall’s perched in his lap, thighs pressed up on either side of Liam’s hips. “Hi,” Liam smiles, sliding a hand up Niall’s spine to cup the back of his neck, fingers playing in his hair. “Go on.” 

Niall exhales a shaky breath and smiles ruefully. “That was it, it was over too fast. And after.” He makes a frustrated sound low in his chest. “That was the worst. I was always hard and I just - I wanted him to touch me like that, I wanted to get off with someone, but he always just waited until I’d wanked myself and he left.” 

Liam doesn’t understand that part. He doesn’t understand seeing Niall like that and not getting off. Fuck, he’s so hard now just from watching Niall talk about it. 

“We could do that,” Liam breathes out slowly, picturing it, his hand on Niall’s bum, his skin pink and worked over. “If you want. Think I might want to do that to you,” he says like it’s an admission and maybe it is. 

Niall hunches forward to duck and press his face to Liam’s throat. “You just say things like that, Liam, and you don’t know how much I want it.” Niall rocks forward and Liam hisses as Niall’s cock nudges up against his, both of them hard. Liam tightens his grip in Niall’s hair and pulls, forcing his head back. Niall’s hips stutter forward and his eyes go wide. He rocks down into Liam’s lap and mumbles, “Do it again.” 

Liam’s so hard and turned on right now. “Yeah? You like that?” It’s not a tease, he’s asking honestly, trying to catalog everything Niall likes and how to get him to make those quiet, pleased noises. 

“Yes,” Niall stutters. His head falls back, mouth open in a harsh breath as Liam does it again, a little harder this time. 

Liam digs his fingers into the shape of Niall’s skull and tugs him forward, lifting his chin to kiss him with an open mouth and his other hand pressing bruises into his hip. 

They’re both worked up, snogging frantically and rocking into one another and Liam knows before it happens that they’re going to come like this, for the second time tonight, like horny teenagers. Which, to be fair, is what they are. 

Liam tugs at Niall’s jogging bottoms. “Lift up,” he mumbles, his face warm as he realizes Niall put on clean bottoms without any pants. His cock bobs up against his belly and Liam can see where it’s wet already, though it hasn’t been two hours since they both came in their jeans. 

It’s been a while since Liam’s had his hand on a cock other than his own, since before Danielle, but it feels familiar. He likes the way Niall’s cock fits in his hand, the way it curves. It’s hard, really hard, beneath his palm and he strokes him slowly, testing, watching Niall’s eyes slip shut and his breathing go shallow. 

“Keep talking,” Liam tells him as he tightens his grip. He goes slow, he wants to draw this out this time, wants to watch Niall’s face when he comes. “Tell me something else.” He thinks back to the that first morning on the bus when Niall slipped out of his bunk and showed up later with scratches on his back. “Tell me about the last time.” 

Niall opens his eyes and Liam loses his breath. Niall turned on is stunning. His eyes have gone dark, soft and heavy-lidded, his mouth wet from licking his lips. 

_You’re gorgeous,_ Liam thinks but doesn’t say out loud. 

“I.” Niall stops and steadies himself with a breath in. Liam recognizes the embarrassment on his skin now. “I told him about you,” he whispers like it’s too much to say out loud. “He knows - he knew, that I fancy you. He kept talking about you.” 

Liam goes still at that. “What did he say? ” 

Niall curls his fingers around Liam’s wrist. “Don’t stop,” he pleads. When Liam starts stroking again he says in a trembling voice, “He said, ‘What if Liam could see you now?’” Niall’s voice hitches. “I was on my belly and he was scratching me, marking me up and I was just thinking about you, fuck, Liam,” Niall cries out then at the way Liam’s grip tightens. Liam can’t handle the image of Niall with someone else, thinking about him. 

“Fuck, Niall, hang on,” Liam says and pulls at the waist of his pants and trackies until he’s got his cock out. He goes back to touching Niall and uses his other hand on himself, hissing at the first touch. 

Niall falls gracelessly forward, throwing an around Liam’s neck and bringing their mouths together in a kiss that’s messy. “Don’t stop,” he says again, rocking his hips forward. “Fuck,” he laughs against Liam’s lips.

Niall starts talking again, babbling like he doesn’t really know he’s doing it. “When he said that, when he talked about you, it surprised me, he was teasing me, it wasn’t mean but it was meant to embarrass me and it did, that he knew how I feel about you and was using it to get me off.” 

“What happened?” Liam says but it’s hoarse, his throat dry and the words lodged somewhere in his chest. 

“It surprised me, I just came, just like. With nothing, wasn’t touching myself, just fucking into the bed with his nails digging into my back and I fuck, ah, I came all over myself.” 

Liam’s going to come. He’s going to come all over his fist with Niall in his lap and Niall’s cock in his hand. 

Liam comes first, so sharp and sudden he doesn’t have time to catch his breath. It’s an intense, electric feeling that zings through his body and he collapses into the sofa cushions. “Shit,” he pants, head back against the seat, trying to catch his breath. His jizz is sticky and wet, tacky against his skin as it cools. 

“Liam, you’re so fit, so fucking hot,” Niall mumbles. Liam looks up and Niall’s eyes are a little wild as he wanks himself, darting everywhere, from Liam’s face down his chest to wear Liam’s come is cooling on his skin. 

Liam pulls Niall’s hand away, replaces it with his own and pulls Niall forward with his free hand tangled in his hair. 

“Go on,” Liam urges against Niall’s mouth. He holds Niall still against him with his fist at the back of his head and wanks him, hand moving quickly over his cock. They kiss through it, Liam swallowing the needy little noises Niall makes. 

Niall tears his mouth away, knocks his forehead into Liam’s and shudders as he comes. Liam lets go of his cock to wrap his arm around Niall and hold him close as he breathes through it. They’re a mess right now, covered in come and sweat, but he doesn’t care about anything but the way Niall looks right now as he breathes through it, fair falling in his eyes, skin pink and shiny with sweat. Liam kisses his jaw, his cheek, his temple. “You’re lovely,” he mouths into Niall’s skin soundlessly. 

They sit like that, just the sounds of their breathing, for a bit. Eventually it gets uncomfortable as everything cools. 

Niall sits back on Liam’s knees. “Thanks for that,” he grins and he looks sleepy and sated and really good. 

“Told you we could do better,” Liam says, arching his back a little to work out the ache in his shoulders. “Imagine what we could do with a bed.” 

Niall grins and ducks down to kiss Liam once. “I’m going to go clean up,” he says and climbs out of Liam’s lap. Liam watches as he tugs his trackies up over his soft cock and thinks about a whole night in a hotel room, mapping Niall’s skin with his fingers and lips and tongue. Niall pauses in the doorway and turns to look at Liam. “I really love this,” he says and ducks out. 

Liam gets to his feet and locks himself in the tiny loo, wiping himself down with a wet flannel and changing into a pair of clean shorts. 

Liam piles up pillows and a load of blankets in the back, a makeshift den that he snaps a picture of. He’s tucked up, sleepy and half watching New Adventures of Spiderman when Niall comes back a short while later. 

He climbs up over Liam and settles beside him. 

 

* 

 

 _come smoke with me, payno,_ Louis texts the following afternoon when Liam’s finishing off a call-in interview to a radio station in Pittsburg. 

Liam finds Louis hotboxing a toilet on the bottom floor of the venue. Liam has spent three years trying to figure out how Louis always manages to get them into situations like these. He remembers a time of being constantly worried about getting caught and into trouble. But Louis always manages to talk himself out of any kind of scrape, so Liam’s learned to go with it for the most part. 

“Haven’t seen you in ages,” Louis says as he lights the end of the joint and pulls smoke into his lungs. “Where you been?”

Louis has a knack for exaggeration. Liam rolls his eyes. “Saw you just this morning,” he says and takes the joint from Louis. The first hit is smooth and makes his eyes water with how good it is. He holds the smoke in his lungs for a beat and blows it out. 

“You know what I mean. Haven’t had any Liam time, have I? You’re not avoiding me, are you? I’m still your best girl, Liam.” 

Liam doesn’t have any secrets from Louis. “Me and Niall,” he says with a shrug because while it feels like a big deal, feels like his life has changed in the last few days, he doesn’t want to _make_ it a big deal. 

“You and Niall what?” Louis’s brow is furrowed, eyes narrowed like he’s unsure whether or not Liam’s taking the piss. 

Liam takes another hit. “You know,” he says and waves his hand vaguely. 

“No, Liam,” Louis says slowly, carefully, like he’s speaking with a child. “I don’t know. What does this,” he waves his hand, “mean? You and Niall have taken up knitting? You’re joining a cult?” 

“Fucking,” Liam wants to say but it’s not just fucking. It’s more than that. His head is starting to buzz pleasantly from the weed and he leans his head back against the cool tiled wall, sorting it out. “Dunno really what to call it,” he says finally because it’s true and he and Niall haven’t labeled what they are. Maybe it’s cowardly of him to wait until they’re smoking up, but it’s out there now and it’s one person to tell. 

“Bullshit,” Louis breathes in sharply, wincing as the smoke catches in his lungs and he coughs through it. “Since when?” he says, eyes tearing up. 

Liam looks up, thinking about it. “Not long? A week? A week and a half?” Is that all? It feels like longer, but the thing with tour is time is always blurring together. 

“Liam James Payne.” Louis says it in that dramatic, television announcer voice of his and it rings loudly in the small space. Liam winces. “Are you taking the piss right now? Because you know, I can’t tell.” He snaps his fingers in front of Liam’s face. “Oy, pay attention.” 

Liam catches Louis’s hand. “Not taking the piss, mate,” he says sharply. “Are you going to be an arse about this?” 

Louis frowns for a second like he’s genuinely thinking it over. “No,” he says finally. “Don’t think I am.” 

The knot in Liam’s chest unravels and he lets go. “Good. Now give me that, please,” he says and takes the joint from Louis. 

They smoke the whole thing, sitting on the tiled floor of the loo until Liam is hungry and tired and maybe a little horny. 

“Thanks for this,” Liam says. Louis gets to his feet and grabs Liam around the waist. “If you’re good, I’m good,” he says fiercely and lets Liam go. 

“I’m good,” Liam says. “I’ll see you later, Tommo.” Liam goes to get some food which is where Niall finds him a short while later, standing in front of the table trying to decide if he wants chips or chicken. Or both. 

“Liam,” Niall sidles up beside him and says quietly,“What did you say to Tommo?” 

Liam turns to face Niall. His nose is pink. It’s absurdly cute and Liam wants to kiss it. He’s maybe pretty high. 

“Just that we’re you know, together or whatever. Why?” Something cuts through the fog in his head and he wonders if this is something he should have checked with Niall about. “Is that not okay?” 

Niall shakes his head. “Just been congratulated on making an honest man of you,” he says, “and he said he wants to be the godfather should we decide to start a family.” 

“Ignore him,” Liam says, “he’s really high.” He pauses. “So am I.” 

Liam pulls Niall against him in a hug, his belly going warm when Niall hugs him back, face tucked right up against his. “Sorry,” Liam breathes out, “I know - we haven’t even talked about this. I just, I wanted to tell him.” 

Niall huffs and hugs him tighter. “It’s okay. We do - we should talk.” He’s quiet for a beat and then he laughs. “Now we don’t have to tell Zayn because Louis’s probably done it for us.” He breathes in deep and makes a pleased sound in his chest. “You smell good,” Niall mumbles into Liam’s throat. “Save some for me, next time.” 

“Promise.” Liam’s lips brush Niall’s skin. “Hey,” he says quietly. “Come to mine tonight?” 

Niall hums. “Yeah, alright,” he breathes out. He presses a quick kiss to Liam’s jaw. “Gotta go, Lou’s cutting my hair.” 

 

* 

 

Niall knocks at Liam’s door as Liam’s coming out of the shower, dressed for bed in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. Liam is breathless, his heart pounding, as he opens the door.

Niall smiles and comes in and the first thing he says is, “Can we order food? I could eat one of everything, I’m starving.”

Liam doesn’t know why he thought it would be different, hanging out with Niall now under this new definition of “him and Niall,” whatever it is.

“We can eat,” Liam agrees. “Thought you’d have eaten already though.” 

“Too nervous to eat much,” he says with a shrug like that’s just an easy thing to say. For Niall it is. It’s just another thing to add to the reasons Niall’s all he can think about lately.

"I want to kiss you," Liam blurts out and feels his face go hot. “Um, that’s not what I meant to say,” but it doesn’t matter because Niall’s laughing, the kind he does with his whole body and he shoves himself up into Liam’s space. “Well go on then,” he says with his crinkly eyed smile and flushed cheeks. “What’re you waiting for?”

“I don’t know,” Liam smiles and shakes his head. He gets an arm around Niall’s waist.

Niall pushes up onto the balls of his feet and Liam bends his head and the first press of lips is soft and tentative. Liam likes kissing Niall for the sounds he makes and the way his body arches into his, like he’s kissing with his entire body. Liam doesn’t remember a kiss ever making him feel like this.

Niall makes a rough noise and the kiss goes deeper, hotter. Liam opens his mouth to Niall’s tongue, the tip of it licking carefully between his lips and Liam can feel himself getting hard from this, from just a little snogging and the anticipation that’s been building between them.

Liam digs his fingertips into the meat of Niall’s back, urging him closer, and Niall winds his arm around Liam’s neck so they’re tucked up against each other, chests and hips and tangled legs. 

Liam grips Niall with one arm and hauls him up off his feet, swallowing the surprised groan he makes, and backs them towards the bed, moving completely blindly. 

Niall laughs into Liam's mouth. "So smooth, Payno," he breathes and grips Liam's shoulder, bracing himself. 

He feels the bed behind him and takes Niall with him as he falls gracelessly into the mattress, groaning as Niall's knee catches him between the legs.

Niall pulls back to look at Liam, braced above him on his elbow. “Hi,” he mumbles, beaming. He nuzzles his nose against Liam’s cheek, breathing him in. “Been waiting for this.” 

Liam groans and brings Niall against him with his arm around his waist. “Me too.” 

They have an enormous bed and the whole night to do whatever they want. Liam doesn’t know where to start but this is so good, the way Niall feels against him, the shape of his cock, half hard, against his thigh and the way he can feel the beat of his heart where they’re pressed together. 

They snog like that, until Niall’s stomach does some weird thing that cuts through the fog in Liam’s head and he breaks the kiss to breathe and says, “What was that?” against Niall’s mouth, laughing. “Jesus that was loud.” 

Niall grins and rolls to his back, catching his breath. His shirt rides up his belly, pale skin and a trail of hair that disappears beneath his shorts. Liam’s face feels hot and he thinks about tracing it with his fingertips, his lips. 

“I wasn’t joking,” Niall shrugs and Liam loves the way his eyes go squinty at the corners when he grins like that. “I’m so hungry,” he says and pats his belly sympathetically.

He twists to his back and looks over at Niall. “We better feed you then,” he says with his best serious face. “Don’t want you to perish from starvation.”

Niall reaches out and pushes fondly at Liam’s face. “Such big words, Payno,” he teases and Liam realizes then how good this feels, being here like this with Niall, all that easy friendship between them with this new heat and anticipation.

“What do you want to eat?” Liam sits up and leans over Niall for the menu that lives in the table by the bed.

“Everything,” Niall says. “Feed me, Liam.” He lifts his head up off the pillow and kisses the corner of Liam’s mouth, his chin and rubs his lips against the stubble on Liam’s jaw.

Liam shivers and has to steady himself, braces his weight with a hand on the mattress. “You might not get food if you keep that up,” Liam mumbles feeling his cheeks go pink. Jesus, he’s so into this. “Might get distracted, forget what I was doing.” He turns his head just slightly and finds Niall’s lips.

“That could be okay,” Niall agrees though the words are mostly lost.

Niall throws an arm around Liam’s back and pulls, bringing Liam’s weight down on him. “That’s better,” he sighs. Niall wriggles his hips, getting himself situated with his thighs spread and shifts until Liam’s slotted himself between Niall’s legs, their hips snugged up together.

“Maybe we should eat,” Liam says between breaths. He’s not all that hungry but the faster they eat the faster they can get naked. Liam’s so ready to get naked with Niall. 

He gets his legs beneath him, kneeling, and picks up the phone to dial room service. “What can we get for you Mr. Payne?” comes the voice at the other end. Liam will never get used to this, he thinks. Having anything he wants just because of the band he’s in.

“Nachos,” Niall says. He’s got one hand flat on his belly and the other dipping beneath the waist of his shorts. He looks incredible and Liam’s mouth is dry.

“Nachos,” Liam parrots into the phone. “With everything, extra sour cream.” Liam covers the receiver with his palm. “Anything else?”

“Chicken fingers,” Niall says. “And chips.”

Liam remembers back when they first started spending time together, getting to know each other in the context of being a band, being alarmed by the amount of food Niall could pack away.

“Careful,” Louis had told him after Niall had polished off his own plate of curry and was helping himself to what Zayn wasn’t eating, “you’re going to get very fat if you carry on like that.”

And Niall had just grinned around a mouthful of potatoes and said, “I’m a growing boy.” 

“You’re going to eat all that, are you?” Liam says but relays the order into the phone. He hangs up the phone and unfolds himself down beside Niall, his weight braced on his elbow.

Niall’s stroking the tips of his fingers over his stomach and it’s driving Liam mad. Liam settles his hand over Niall’s, tangling their fingers together, and strokes his thumb over the skin beneath his belly button. Niall’s breathing quickens and he turns his cheek on the pillow to kiss Liam. Everything dissolves from there, like a spark igniting. Liam makes a rough sound and rolls until he’s above Niall, bracing his weight and working his hips against Niall’s. 

Liam slips his palm under the hem of Niall’s t-shirt, moving over his skin. He digs his fingers into Niall’s side and Niall reacts to that with his entire body, sharp and sudden, clutching at Liam. 

“Sorry,” Liam whispers against Niall’s mouth. “Is that okay?” He knows there’s an old bruise there, and he rubs his thumb in apology, soothing. 

“Yeah,” Niall gasps, “do it again.” He gets his leg untangled from Liam’s and bends his knee, foot flat on the bed. Like this, Liam’s cock is right up against Niall’s and Niall is hard already from this. 

There’s a sharp knock at the door and Liam collapses. Fuck, he’d forgotten all about the damn food. 

“Ignore it,” Niall moans, gripping Liam by the hips. “They’ll go away.” 

Liam presses his forehead to Niall’s and breathes. He’s so hard. He kisses the corner of Niall’s mouth and tries to calm himself. He strokes his fingers lightly over Niall’s hip. “Thought you wanted food, hmm?” he says and licks at Niall’s bottom lip, a playful flick of his tongue. He doesn’t feel playful, he feels a little wild and out of control. 

“Not that kind of hungry anymore, honestly,” Niall mumbles. He nudges his mouth to the right and catches Liam’s in a kiss that turns dirty and leaves them panting. 

The knock comes again and Liam rolls to his feet, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. Niall’s splayed out against the pillows, his the head of his cock poking out of the waist of his jogging bottoms. Liam feels his mouth go wet, fucking salivating for Niall’s cock in his mouth. “Shit,” he breathes and palms himself. 

“Put that away,” he says with a cheeky grin, trying to lighten things up again. Everything feels so heady and frantic and he’s having trouble keeping up. “You’ll give the man a heart attack.” 

Niall laughs at that, delighted, and sits up, arranging himself against the pillows with one across his lap. “Better?” 

Liam arches an eyebrow. Niall’s pink all over and tousled and Liam’s a second from telling the waiter to sod off. “Not hardly.” 

There’s another insistent knock and Liam calls out, “Yeah, hang on,” and goes to the door. 

He blocks the doorway. The last thing they need is some hotel employee putting two and two together. He scribbles his name on the receipt and takes the trolley of food from the man. “Cheers, mate,” he says and shuts the door. 

“That looks good,” Niall says, getting to his feet and coming over. He’s pressed up behind Liam, an arm around his waist, chin tucked over his shoulder and Liam can feel him, the shape of his cock against his arse. 

They end up on the floor by the bed with the plates spread out between them, Liam picking at nachos and chips and mostly just watching the enthusiasm with which Niall does _everything_. By the time they've eaten half the nachos and a few chicken fingers, there’s still loads of food left. 

“Think your eyes were bigger than your stomach,” Liam says, this little bubble of fondness caught right in his chest. 

“I’ve got other things on my mind now,” Niall says with a shrug and Liam bites his lip and nudges his foot against Niall’s thigh. “Right,” Niall says with a flush, “I’m done.” 

Liam does not have to be told twice. They clear the plates, getting everything back on the trolley and Liam wheels it out into the corridor. When he comes back into the room, Niall’s dimmed some of the lights and he’s in the middle of the bed with his hand down his pants, lazily stroking himself.

“Jesus,” Liam breathes. He’s struck dumb, his face hot, his stomach flip flopping and he can’t do anything but stand there and watch. 

“Li-am,” Niall sing-songs, his breath hitching as he works his hand over his cock, “you should come here.” 

Liam feels completely wrapped up in watching Niall wank himself, the easy, playful way he’s doing it, a tease meant for Liam. There’s not a hint of artifice in it; he’s completely at ease in his skin. 

Liam sets a knee on the bed and makes a space for himself, kneeling beside Niall, his whole body warm and thrumming. 

Niall must enjoy being watched, his face flushed and his eyes dark and almost sleepy looking. 

The way Niall’s completely comfortable in this settles Liam’s nerves. “If you’re going to show off,” he says, his mouth dry and his voice caught in his throat, “let me see.” 

Niall groans and shamelessly pushes his hips up off the bed, making his back arch in one long, lovely line, his shirt rucked up under his arms. Liam tugs at the waist of Niall’s trackies, pulling them low on his hips until the head of his cock is poking out, wet at the tip and pink. The bruises on Niall’s hip have faded, gone yellow at the edges. The reminder of Jeremy makes Liam itch to replace them, to mark Niall’s skin up with bruises of his own, until all traces of Jeremy have gone. 

Liam puts his fingers in the waist of Niall’s trackies and pants. “Okay to take these off?” 

“Okay,” Niall agrees breathlessly, rubbing a palm over his face. “Jesus,” he groans. 

Liam bites his lip and tugs everything down Niall’s thighs and off, letting them fall to the floor. Niall pulls his top off and settles into the pillows, one arm folded beneath his head, the other wrapping around his cock. 

They’ve all seen each other naked loads of times but never like this. Niall turned on is incredible, the flush on his skin, his cock wet and hard. 

"What do you like?" Liam asks, his throat dry. He wants to try everything. 

Niall's smile is sweet, soft at the edges. "Don't be nervous, Payno," he says. "How ‘bout I promise to tell you if I don't like something."

Liam fits his fingers to the three marks at the fleshy, soft skin at his hip and traces the smallest one with his thumb. He rubs at it, the tip of his nail catching and he watches Niall’s face. Niall’s eyes slip shut and he breathes in deep like he’s steadying himself. Liam presses harder for the way Niall’s hand speeds up, wanking himself harder now. 

“What are these from?” Liam asks absently, running his fingers over the other two, pushing at the skin to see the way it goes from red to white and back to red. 

“Ah, pinching - he pinched me,” Niall mumbles, opening his eyes to look at Liam. 

“Hmm.”

Niall's skin is pale everywhere, soft and warm where Liam touches him. Liam digs his thumb into Niall's skin harder, wanting to leave a new bruise. Niall sucks in a surprised breath and Liam looks away from the marked skin to his face, his parted mouth, lips wet and pink. His eyes have gone heavy lidded, like he's sleepy and his cheeks are flushed. He's beautiful.

Liam's working purely on instinct at this point. He settles his weight on his knees, leans forward and presses his mouth to the bruise right in the hollow of Niall's hip, sucking with this fierce need to replace it with his own. He sucks the skin between his lips, letting his teeth graze and feels the way Niall responds beneath him. He licks and sets his teeth into it, biting lightly, imagining leaving behind an imprint on Niall's skin that's all his own, something to trace when they’re alone together. 

"Oh," Niall breathes, his back arching up slightly, pushing his hips up. "That's good," he mumbles. He untangles his arm from beneath his head and pushes his fingers into Liam's hair.

Liam sighs and sucks a little harder, using more pressure, biting hard at Niall's skin. Niall's hand tightens in Liam's hair, pulling, and Liam looks up at Niall. He's got his eyes closed, head back against the pillows. Liam takes that as a good sign so he does it again, paying attention to the way Niall's body reacts. When he's worried that he's broken skin, he pulls back to have a look. Niall's skin is purple, the clear impression of Liam's teeth white against the blood pooling just under the surface. Liam touches his thumb to it, rubbing at it, feeling an odd tightening in his belly.

Niall’s breathing hard, touching his cock, and Liam remembers what Niall had said, about the way things were with Jeremy. That’s not what he wants. He wants to be the one to make Niall feel good, to make him come. 

“Stop that,” he says, feeling playful and turned on, a new mix that makes everything feel bright and turned up. He pulls Niall’s hand off his cock, smiling at the low, rough noise Niall makes. 

“I told you,” Liam says softly, running his fingers down Niall’s belly, over the dark hair beneath his belly button and stopping when he gets to Niall’s cock. “I want to do this _with_ you. I want to make you feel like this.” He wraps his palm around Niall’s cock. 

Liam’s skin is overheated, he’s flushed and damp with sweat and all he wants is to be naked. “Hang on,” he says and pulls his top off. He can feel Niall watching him and it makes his cock harder, makes him go hot all over. He pushes his pants and pajama bottoms off and unfolds himself next to Niall, his cock pressed up against Niall’s hip. They’re both warm, skin clammy from the heat but Liam likes the way Niall feels against him. 

He kisses him as he wraps his hand around Niall’s cock, picking up a rhythm. He breaks the kiss to trail his mouth down Niall’s throat, across his collarbones, nipping playfully with his teeth to feel Niall shiver beside him. Niall doesn’t stay still as Liam touches him, his body moving wrestlessly against the sheets. 

“Look at you,” Liam whispers against Niall’s skin, mouth grazing his nipple. “You’re so lovely like this.” 

“Liam,” Niall groans. He pushes his hand into Liam’s hair, tugging him down. When Liam takes the hint and sucks Niall’s nipple, lets his teeth graze it, Niall cries out, fucks up into Liam’s hand and comes with a low cry.

Liam doesn’t stop licking at Niall’s nipple even as Niall’s pushing gently at Liam’s hand, hissing as he comes down. Liam hums into Niall’s skin and rocks his hips against Niall’s thigh. He’s hard, his cock leaving a wet, sticky trail on Niall’s skin, but it doesn’t feel as important as just being here with Niall while he comes down, stroking his hip. 

“Liam,” Niall says. He turns and peppers quick, urgent little kisses along Liam’s stubbled jaw. 

“Hmm?” Liam’s skin’s buzzing with pleasure and it might take a little while but he could get off like this, rocking himself against Niall’s hip, his come on Niall’s skin. 

Niall’s breathing has evened out but Liam can tell he hasn’t quite come down from his orgasm. “Liam,” Niall says it again, a little more urgently. “Let me blow you.” 

Liam goes still. Fuck. The idea of it, of his cock in Niall’s pink, sweet mouth, looking up at his from hooded eyes, his face flushed. Liam takes a breath. Like he’s going to say no. 

“Yeah,” Liam says, carding his fingers through Niall’s hair where it’s gone damp from the heat. “How do you want to?” 

Niall sits up. “On my knees,” he mumbles. He’s already climbing out of the bed. Liam gets to his feet and he’s startled to see that Niall’s half hard, his cock wet from his come against his thigh. Liam knows that Niall likes what they do together but it’s overwhelmingly heady to see just how much he’s into this. 

“Come here.” He tugs Niall against him, stroking his hands down Niall’s sides where his skin is soft and warm and kisses him slowly. 

Niall falls to his knees and Liam’s heart gets lodged somewhere in his throat. He can’t breathe for the sight of Niall at his feet like he’s offering himself to Liam. 

Liam pushes his hand into Niall’s hair and tugs, remembering the way it made Niall go hard against his hip.

Niall looks up at him and Liam’s never seen him this turned on before, like just the act of being on his knees for Liam is enough to get him going again, like he didn’t just come. His eyes are clear and so bright with it and he’s got his hand on his thigh, fingers clenched like he’s trying to keep from touching himself. 

Liam keeps his fingers curled tight in Niall’s hair - it’s long enough to get a good grip - and pulls back a little. “Look at me,” he breathes, the words caught in his chest.

He touches the thumb of his free hand to Niall’s jaw, tilting his chin up so he can get a good look at Niall’s face. He loves the way he looks like this, arousal clear in his expression. He looks fucking hungry, like all he wants is Liam’s cock in his mouth. It’s almost too much. He can’t help thinking that nothing has ever looked as good as Niall on his knees at Liam’s feet.

He sighs as Niall takes him in his mouth. It’s hot and Niall starts sucking from the get go, hollowing his cheeks and really going for it, a little sloppy with it and so enthusiastic like he’s getting off on having Liam in his mouth.

He hadn’t imagined it like this. “You like this?” he breathes and it feels filthy, taunting Niall who’s clearly loving it, getting off on being on his knees for Liam with his mouth full of Liam’s prick. “Hmm?” Liam pushes his fingers into Niall’s hair, the soft bits that fall in his eyes and tightens, pulling him back so he has no choice but to look up at Liam. Niall moans around Liam’s cock, the vibration making his balls draw up and his spine go liquid. “You do, you like this,” Liam praises, stroking the thumb of his free hand along the corner of Niall’s mouth where his lips are stretched. 

“Yes,” Niall groans and sucks harder. Liam can feel him nearly vibrating with how much he’s getting off on this. 

Niall is constantly surprising Liam and this is no exception. He hadn’t expected it to be like this, for Niall to like this as much as he clearly does, pushing down until he gags, his eyes teary and his face splotchy.

Niall’s hard again, Liam realizes with a shock of heat pooling in his stomach. He’s got his hand wrapped around his cock, breathing through his nose and making obscene noises as he wanks himself. 

“I’m gonna come,” Liam mumbles, letting his grip in Niall’s hair loosen, giving him the choice. Niall pulls off with a gasp that’s loud in the stillness of the room, sucking air into his lungs. He looks up at Liam from where’s sat back on his arse, knees splayed. He wraps his hand around Liam, gathers his spit and Liam’s pre-come and uses it to ease the slide as he wanks Liam. Liam’s focused on the way Niall’s mouth looks, pink and swollen, used.

Niall lets his mouth fall open, his tongue coming out to swipe at the head of Liam’s cock and Liam comes with a low groan, curling his fingers in Niall’s hair. His spunk lands on Niall’s tongue, stark white and obscene and Liam shudders through the aftershocks. “Niall,” Liam groans. He doesn’t mean to come on Niall’s face but Niall pulls off and it’s too late, his spunk landing on Niall’s chin, the corner of his mouth.

“Come here,” Liam says, urging Niall to his feet. He wraps both arms around Niall, tugging him in against him and gets a leg between Niall’s thighs, lets Niall rub against him. He slides a hand down Niall’s spine, palming the fleshy swell of his arse and hauling him close.

“That was so hot,” Liam whispers into Niall’s mouth. His lips are sticky with come and Liam finds that he really likes it, his jizz on Niall’s mouth. 

Liam bundles them beneath the blankets, both of them completely naked, their legs tangled together. 

“That was so good,” Niall huffs against Liam’s mouth. He’s curled around Liam, plaint and loose and so lovely. Liam loves him like this, all sleepy and relaxed and his accent's just a little thicker, his words slurring together. 

“Stay here,” Liam tells him around a yawn, just so it’s clear, so Niall knows how much Liam wants him here. 

Niall breaks the kiss to frown at Liam. “Where would I go, hmm?” He settles next to Liam, his cheek on the pillow and burrows deeper into the bed, his body curving into Liam’s.

 

*

 

Liam sleeps deeply, dreamlessly. He wakes to sunlight in his eyes, sweating beneath a tangle of blankets. He rolls to his back and realizes the bed is empty beside him. 

Something tightens in his belly, this horrible disappointment that evaporates as he wakes up enough to hear running water coming from the bathroom. He pauses to pull on a fresh pair of pants and pushes the door open. 

Niall’s standing at the sink, brushing his teeth. Liam can tell from the set of his shoulders and the absence of light in his eyes that he hasn’t woken up in a cheerful mood. He’s anxious, he realizes, standing at the sink in his pants, his hair sticking up and his expression guarded. 

“Morning,” he says carefully, coming to stand behind him. He knows how to navigate a cranky Niall as his mate. He’d poke at him, tease him, until he loosened up and came back to himself. He’s entirely unsure what do in this definition of the two of them. 

Niall finishes brushing his teeth and Liam stands there watching him, feeling awkward and slightly miserable. This isn’t how he imagined this morning going. 

Niall rinses his mouth and sets his toothbrush down. “What are we doing?” he says, catching Liam’s eye in the mirror. 

Liam swallows. They should have had this conversation before now. 

“You mean right now, at this moment,” Liam says, trying to keep his voice even, “or in general?” 

Niall breathes out. “You know what I mean.” 

“I do.” Liam touches Niall’s hip and when Niall doesn’t flinch or move away, he steps closer and pulls Niall against him, back to front, tucking his chin over his shoulder. “Are you - are you nervous about that? About us?” 

Niall’s shoulders relax and he lets himself lean against Liam, bracing his weight against his chest. “Is there an us?” 

Liam’s arm goes reflexively tight around Niall’s middle at that. Christ. “Yes,” Liam says, maybe a little louder than he’d intended. 

“We’re not just, I don’t know, mates having a laugh?” 

Liam lets go of Niall then and steps away. “No, is that what you think? Niall, I’m not - I wouldn’t mess you about like that.” 

Niall’s eyes widen. “You’re upset,” he says slowly. 

“Well, yeah,” Liam says, "I am a little. That you'd think this is just a lark for me.” 

Niall leans against the sink, fidgeting with the bracelet he wears around his wrist. He looks down at the floor. “It just seemed too good to be true,” he admits quietly. 

Liam lets out a noise of disbelief but Niall looks up and pulls a sheepish face before Liam can work up any kind of frustration. Liam does not want to find Niall adorable right now, he wants to have a strop over this, over waking up in the bed alone, over Niall working himself up into a mood by himself in the bathroom. 

“Leeyum,” Niall wheedles, ducking his head, forehead knocking into Liam’s and going cross eyed to look Liam in the eye. “Don’t be cross.” He sits kisses Liam’s nose which is so cute that Liam can’t bother to do anything but smile. 

“So we’re not just mates,” Niall says. “We don’t need to call it anything, it’s just you and me, that’s how we are. But more than mates.”

Liam pulls Niall in against him. “Much more than mates,” he says and kisses Niall. 

 

*

 

Whatever it is he and Niall are doing has managed to stave off the usual six-month slump that comes every tour when things start getting a little monotonous. He’s waiting for the newness of it to wear off, for that buzz he feels every time Niall smiles at him to fade. For now, he’s happy, happier than he has been in a while. 

They’re back in Canada, this time heading to Toronto, in the middle of a summer thunderstorm. Liam’s always loved to watch the lightning crack across a dark sky and he’s in the back, texting his mum and watching the sky light up. 

“What are you doing?” Niall asks, coming into the lounge and sitting beside Liam. They’re nearly at the hotel and though Liam’s used to spending most nights on the bus, these days he ends up in Niall’s room. 

“Talking to my mum,” Liam says. It’s early in Wolverhampton, barely six in the morning, but his mum’s up making breakfast and Liam’s been missing her lately, this little ache of homesickness in his chest. “She says hi,” he tells Niall. He’s mentioned Niall more often lately though he hasn’t told her anything else. He’s not sure what he would say - how to define what they’re doing. 

Liam says goodnight to his mum and pockets his phone. “Come here,” he says softly, pulling Niall down to the bench seat to lie with him. He makes a space for them in the pile of pillows, arranges them with Niall’s cheek on his shoulder and feels that tightness in his chest start to ease. 

“Needed a cuddle,” Niall mumbles sleepily, lifting his chin to kiss Liam’s jaw. “I’m knackered.” 

Liam’s had on the same pair of trackies he’s been living in for the last half of the tour. He’s not wearing pants today, the only reason being he hasn’t got any clean ones left. Niall’s own joggers are slung low on his hips, slipping farther down his belly when he moves. Liam touches his skin, traces his fingertips over the soft hair beneath his belly button as they lie together in the lounge, their legs tangled together, bare feet knocking against one another.

Niall makes these low, pleased sounds that start deep in his chest and rumble up out of him like he can’t help it. Liam’s found that touching Niall like this, hands stroking his skin, his belly, his thighs, low on his back, turns him all loose and pliant. 

Liam’s half hard but it’s not urgent, he’s happy to stay like this with Niall, both of them dozing, lulled by the motion of the bus and the quiet, familiar sounds.

“I’m going to go in,” Niall says as the bus pulls into the hotel car park. He gets to his feet and bends to kiss Liam. He’s had shadows beneath his eyes for a few days now, neither of them sleeping as much as they should. Liam thinks, too, that his knee’s been bothering him from the non-stop pace and the way he throws himself physically into every show. 

He stands, a hand on Niall’s hip and says, “I’ll come too, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay,” Niall smiles and turns his cheek to press his mouth to Liam’s jaw. “That’d be alright.”

Paul has figured out that Liam’s started sleeping in Niall’s room, and ever the master of discretion, he hands them both a key to the same room. 

Liam tackles Niall to the bed to hear the way Niall dissolves into fits of laughter, hands clutching at Liam’s shoulders as Liam digs his fingertips into the soft flesh at his sides.

Fuck, he loves this. He lands on top of Niall and slots their legs together. He braces his weight on an elbow and looks down at Niall, head back, mouth open and eyes all scrunchy as he laughs.

They end up naked, both of them flushed and hard, snogging messily in the middle of the bed on top of the covers. 

"Babe," Liam breathes out against Niall's lips. “Can I try something?” 

“Yeah, anything, Liam.” Niall breaks the kiss so he can look Liam in the eye. “I trust you, okay? I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.” 

Liam loves Niall’s trust in him but he loves hearing Niall say it just as much. He reaches between them and circles Niall’s wrist with his thumb and forefinger.“Can I hold you down? Your wrists, I mean?” 

Niall exhales sharply. “Yeah, do it,” whispers and Liam can see just what the thought of it does to him, the way his pulse quickens. 

Liam tugs at Niall’s wrist and pulls his arm over his head, using his weight to press it into the mattress. He fumbles for Niall’s other hand and does the same, pinning both of Niall’s narrow wrists into the bed. “Is that alright?” Liam questions, looking down at Niall. 

Niall shifts beneath Liam, testing Liam’s grip on his arms, the weight on his wrists where he’s being held down. “Yes,” he mumbles and Liam watches his face change, the heat blossoming in his cheeks. “That’s good.” 

Beneath him he can feel Niall start to shake, pulling air into his lungs like he's just broken the surface of deep water and can't catch his breath. 

Liam drags his free hand down Niall's side, feeling him tremble. "Breathe, babe," Liam mumbles against Niall's jaw. “You’re lovely like this,” he praises. 

Niall sucks air in through his lips and mumbles, "Oh, that's good."

Liam's beginning to understand what this means for Niall, the way the pain makes him feel. “Does it hurt?” 

“Yes,” Niall hisses. “It’s so good.” 

It takes a little maneuvering to get their cocks lined up, Liam fumbling between them so their cocks slide up alongside one another, trapped between their bellies. At the first touch Liam groans, hitching his hips up harder against Niall. It's so hot, everything about this, the way it feels to have Niall beneath him, slight wrists pinned, arching up.

“You with me?” Liam brushes his lips against Niall’s and Niall moans into his mouth. 

“Yes.” He tries to nod and cries out when his shoulders tug, Liam’s weight not allowing any sort of give. 

Liam can feel Niall coming apart beneath him, the way his hips come up off the bed, forcing his back to arch in a way that must make his shoulders ache. 

“I’m gonna come, Liam," Niall mumbles. "Harder," he breathes, "do it harder," and Liam gets it then and leverages his weight down on Niall's wrists. 

Liam knows Niall could come like this, just the friction of their cocks and stomachs but that’s not what he wants. He reaches between them, takes Niall in his hand and kisses him hard as he wanks him fast with a tight grip. 

Niall cries out against Liam’s mouth when he comes and Liam lets up a little, loosening his hand on Niall’s wrists as Niall trembles beneath him. He kisses Niall through it, soft, gentle kisses on his lips and jaw, as Niall catches his breath and comes back to himself. 

Liam lets go of his wrists and gently brings first one arm, then the other, down. 

“How was that?” Liam asks, petting at his belly. 

Niall opens his eye, stretches his arms above his head and the smile on his face is pure filth. "Oh fuck," he breathes and arches a little, stretching the kinks in his shoulders. “Liam,” he sighs and Liam’s reminded of a cat. “That was so good.” 

Liam’s really hard. Really fucking hard. He curls a hand around his cock and strokes himself quickly, eyes roaming over Niall’s pink skin and flushed nipples, his come-stained belly and his softening cock. 

Niall’s watching with dark eyes, chewing on his lip. “Liam,” he says softly. “Come up here.” 

Fuck. Liam’s stomach flips. He shuffles up the bed until he’s hovering beside Niall. Niall pushes his hand between Liam’s legs, cups his balls in his palm and tilts his chin up. “You can, if you want,” he says and lets his eyes flutter shut in plain invitation. 

Niall’s breathing shallowly like the anticipation of it his getting him worked up again. Liam touches Niall’s forehead, gently pushing his hair off his face, strokes his fingertips down Niall’s cheek. He’s going to come on Niall’s face and it’s going to be embarrassingly quick and over too soon. He tries to watch, to keep his eyes open as he comes, his jizz landing on Niall’s cheek, the bridge of his nose, his bottom lip. 

Niall moans and his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip and Liam shakes through the aftershocks. 

Liam’s still touching Niall’s face, this tight little ball of tenderness making it hard to breathe. 

“You’re a mess,” Liam says. His knees are shaky as he gets to his feet to get a wet flannel. He settles beside and wipes his belly and thighs where they’re sticky with come and wipes at his cheek and jaw.

“I liked that,” Niall admits sheepishly like it embarrasses him. Liam finds that oddly endearing, that Niall can admit to liking pain but gets embarrassed because he likes it when Liam comes on his face. 

“We should do that again," Niall says as Liam wipes the flannel over his own belly and cock. 

“Yeah, we can do it again,” Liam says with a small smile. Liam can’t imagine not wanting to do everything, all the time, with Niall. “Give us your hand,” he says and when Niall holds his arm out dutifully Liam pulls it into his lap, turning his wrist over. There’s some bruising that’s started already, a ring around his wrist. Liam tucks a kiss to the pale, paper thin skin where the blue of Niall's veins peek through. 

Niall hums in pleasure and gives Liam the sweetest smile. 

“How are your shoulders?” 

Niall shrugs, rotating them, testing the pull in his muscles. “Sore. It’s good though.” 

Liam lies down beside Niall and tugs him until he’s braced above him. “That was really good,” Liam says and lifts his head up off the pillows to kiss him. Niall makes a low sound in agreement and they stay like that, snogging slowly. Liam pulls away to catch his breath and Niall untangles himself like he’s going to get up. 

Liam catches him around the waist. “Where are you going, hmm?” 

Niall’s rumble of laughter vibrates against Liam’s throat. “Not even a bit sleepy now,” he says against Liam’s skin, shrugging. “Gonna go take a shower.” He pulls back and kisses Liam. “Keep my spot warm.” 

He climbs out of bed and shuffles into the bathroom. Liam watches him go, the breadth of his shoulders, the curve of his spine, his narrow waist. 

He bites his lip and pulls a pillow over his face, feeling goofy and flushed. 

When Niall comes back half an hour later, Liam's mostly hard again, stroking his fingers down his belly, ignoring his cock and thinking about Niall in the shower, wet and naked. Niall stops still in the doorway. He’s got a towel wrapped around his hips, water dripping down his chest. He hesitates for a second and lets the towel fall to the floor, scrambling up onto the bed. 

Liam rolls them immediately, kissing Niall’s mouth open and swallowing the sounds he makes. 

Liam pushes gently at Niall’s shoulder. “Get on your front,” he whispers. 

Niall nods and lets Liam roll him to his belly. 

“Just like this, okay?” Liam says and holds Niall to the bed with his palm at the dip of his spine. He just wants to look at him, wonders if it’ll get old ever, if he’ll get used to the way he feels when they’re together. 

Liam straddles Niall’s thighs and drags his palm up the length of Niall’s back and down again, listening to the shift in Niall’s breathing, the hitch in his throat. 

Liam’s so hard. They haven’t talked about this bit but he’s thought about it. Liam goes up on his knees, positioning his cock until it’s nestled in the crack of Niall’s bum. It’s so hot. He works his hips a little, watching it slide between Niall’s arse cheeks and gets a flash of pushing into Niall, fucking into him. 

"You can, if you want," Niall says. He's got one arm folded beneath his cheek. He's sweaty and flushed everywhere and he's shifting his hips into the mattress to get friction on his dick. His arse is tilted up and Liam doesn't know anything about this part but what he wants right now more than anything is to get his dick in there, to push into Niall and see what it feels like. "I want you to," Niall says and Liam doesn’t know what Niall’s giving him permission for but whatever it is, he wants it. His eyes slip closed and Liam knows Niall's a few minutes from nutting all over the bedspread. He's working up a rhythm. Liam has a fleeting thought of wanking himself and coming on the pale upturn of Niall's arse, thinking of what it would look like with his jizz on Niall's skin, about what it would be like to put his hand on Niall's arse, to hit him until the skin was pink, until it was warm to the touch from Liam's hand on him.

Liam dips his head down to kiss Niall’s neck and rocks his hips harder into Niall’s bum, loving the way his cock feels against Niall’s skin. 

“Gonna come, Liam,” Niall breathes out as Liam fucks his hips down, rocking Niall into the bed. 

“Yeah, go on,” Liam groans, letting his teeth catch at the sensitive spot at the back of his neck. 

Niall moans and shudders and Liam feels him go boneless beneath him. It doesn’t take long for him to come, not with Niall loose and pliant beneath him, his cock sliding wetly between Niall’s cheeks as Niall shivers and makes contented, sleepy little noises low in his throat. 

Liam stays there for a moment, his weight braced on his forearm, nuzzling the back of Niall’s neck and trying to catch his breath. 

Niall makes a satisfied sound. “‘S good,” he says softly. 

After a bit when Liam’s regained his bearings, he rolls off Niall and tugs at the come-stained blanket, pushing it to the floor and makes a place for himself and Niall in the nest of pillows. 

“Mm,” Niall mumbles against Liam’s chest, already half asleep. “Now I need another shower,” he says, his words blurring together at the edges. 

Liam just hums and tugs him closer. “In the morning,” he says, and pulls the sheets up over them. 

 

* 

 

Liam doesn’t notice the bruises until halfway through soundcheck the following day. It’s been a particularly busy day - with so much coming up they’ve had more meetings and promotional events than usual and Liam’s exhausted. 

He only notices them because he realizes Niall’s changed the black bracelet he usually wears from his left wrist to his right. 

As soon as they’re finished and soundcheck is over for the afternoon, he gets Niall alone back behind one of the towers and takes his hand, pushing the bracelet aside. His pale skin is marked in a ring of blue and purple bruises, circling his wrist. 

“Jesus,” Liam whispers. He feels faintly guilty that he’s left marks like that on Niall but it’s overtaken by the hot flood of pride, something kind of dirty in it, marking Niall up for people to see if they aren’t more careful. He uses his thumb and forefinger to circle Niall’s wrist, fitting his hand around the shape of the bruises. It’s a stark, visceral reminder of last night and the memory gets him half hard.

Liam strokes his fingers over the skin and listens to Niall’s breathing shift and quicken. “Does it hurt?” 

Niall angles his body towards Liam in the way Liam has learned means he’s turned on and looking to be touched, petted. “Yes,” is all he says and leans his forehead on Liam’s shoulder, breathing shallowly as Liam touches the sensitive, tender skin. Liam can feel his breath against his skin. He touches the tip of his thumb to the bruise at the inside of his wrist where the skin is nearly translucent. Niall takes a deep, shuddering breath and tucks himself in close against Liam.

“I like doing this to you,” Liam admits quietly, turning his cheek to kiss Niall’s temple where he’s flushed. “I like making you feel like this.” Liam is constantly amazed by how turned on he gets when they do this.

Niall makes it easy to say what he feels. 

 

* 

 

Liam notices a bag of plastic pegs in Lou’s kit while she’s sorting Zayn before the show in Seattle. He thinks of Niall as soon as he sees it, and nicks it when she isn’t looking. Later in his room he sorts through them, testing the different sizes. He takes the largest of them and pinches the inside of his arm with it. It’s a dull sort of pain but Liam can feel how it would shift and blossom into something sharper the longer it’s on his skin.

That night, when they’re together in his room, Liam waits until they’re both worked up, hard against one another and breathing into each other’s mouths. “Hey.” He pulls back to catch his breath and look at Niall. “I have something - something I thought we could try.”

Niall’s eyes widen slightly. “You do? What is it?” 

“Hang on.” Liam rolls off the bed and digs through his rucksack until he finds the little plastic bag. He holds it out for Niall to see.

Niall’s eyes are bright and his cheeks pink. “Okay,” he mumbles. Liam loves the way Niall gets like this, a little flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. Liam pushes Niall to his back against the pillows. He shoves his top up under his arms and lets the bag sit on the bed in Niall’s eye line so he can see what’s coming.

He runs his fingers down Niall’s side, just the tips over the fleshy skin and when Niall’s breathing’s gone a little harsh he uses his nails, digs in a little to hear the way Niall’s breath catches in his throat and his hips come up off the bed.

He starts with one of the smaller ones, pinches the vulnerable skin below his belly button between his thumb and forefinger and snaps the peg onto his skin. 

Niall cries out, a soft breathless sound. 

“How does that feel?” Liam asks gently, soothing his hand down the Niall’s thigh, a reassuring touch. 

“Ah,” Niall takes a deep breath. “Hurts,” he mumbles, shifting his cheek on the pillow to look at Liam. “Keep going.” 

Liam pulls one of the larger pegs out of the bag and clips it on the skin above his hip. 

Niall’s eyes have gone heavy-lidded, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his stuttered breathing.

“You look lovely like this,” Liam tells him as he strokes his hand down his side. “You like this, don’t you?”

Niall’s breathing shallowly and his eyes have a glassy, far off look about them. 

Liam doesn’t leave the pegs on long - this is the first time they’re trying it and he’s read enough to know to start small. By the time he’s clipped the last peg, right on the softest part of Niall’s belly, Niall’s panting and shifting restlessly on the bed. 

Liam takes them off one by one. It feels like a ritual, taking each one off, depositing it back in the bag. Niall's moaning when Liam takes the last one off, breathing like's finished a sprint. His cock is flushed red and leaking against his belly. 

Liam’s so turned on, completely aroused by the way Niall looks. The way he responds with his entire body, the flush in his cheeks, the heat in his eyes, his bottom lip plump and swollen from digging his teeth into it.

Liam’s going by pure instinct at the moment, reading Niall and gauging his body’s reactions. Liam’s own cock aches, the front of his pants damp with how turned on he is. He wants nothing more than to make Niall feel good, to touch him everywhere, use his mouth and his lips and tongue on Niall’s skin. Niall is beautiful like this.

Liam cups himself through his pants, fingers playing with his balls. His weight is braced on his knees and he supports himself with his free hand on Niall’s thigh where his skin is warm and damp with sweat. 

Liam slides his fist down the length of Niall’s cock, his palm slick with Niall’s pre-come. “You can, Nialler,” he says softly. “You can come, yeah? Come on, it’s okay,” and he’s just murmuring nonsense really but Niall’s panting and moving against the sheets and he looks incredible, completely caught up in the way he’s feeling.

Liam ducks his head backs down and takes Niall’s red, swollen nipple between his teeth, biting just enough that he feels Niall shudder, hips jerking.

“Oh Jesus, oh,” Niall moans low and choppy.

Liam lifts his head and uses his free hand, grips Niall’s puffy, tight nipple between his thumb and index finger and squeezes, twists, keeping the rhythm of his hand on Niall’s cock steady as he can.

Niall’s got both fists twisted in the sheets and when he comes he cries out low and thready. His come is warm and sticky, covering Liam’s fingers.

Liam gets up off the bed and goes into the bathroom for a wet flannel. 

This is the part he loves. He wipes gently at Niall’s skin. “Come here, babe,” he says and gathers Niall against him, lips moving against his skin as he whispers nonsense to him. 

Afterwards, when Niall’s come back to himself and is kissing Liam’s chest, he scoots down the bed to make a space for himself on his belly, nuzzling Liam’s cock with his open mouth, nudging his nose down behind his balls. 

“Liam,” Niall breathes out against Liam’s skin. “Let me lick you,” he says and the words vibrate through Liam, up his spine. 

Liam cards his fingers through Niall’s hair. “If you want,” he whispers. No one has ever put their mouth on him there and the thought of it is overwhelms him. That Niall wants to do that to him makes him feel lightheaded, unsteady. 

Niall just hums and mumbles, “I want to,” and ducks down to lick below Liam’s balls, down to his hole. Niall spreads Liam open and he’s never felt so vulnerable or turned on. The intimacy of it makes him dizzy. 

Liam’s seen porn, watched a guy lick at another guy’s arse, but it’s never seemed all that appealing; lazy, half-hearted licks that don’t seem like they would do all that much for him. This, though, has him feeling like he might fly apart at the seams. Niall’s not messing around. He’s got his tongue flat and he’s licking Liam like this is what he wants to be doing and humming these low, pleased little noises that shoot through Liam and make him feel lit up from the inside. 

He wanks himself as Niall licks him open and when he comes, he’s shaking through it. 

He can’t quite catch his breath after. 

“That was good, then?” Niall says and Liam doesn’t have to open his eyes to know Niall’s smile is smug and pleased. 

“It was okay,” Liam allows, and grins when Niall makes a rude noise. When Niall tucks himself up next to Liam, his breathing even and slow, Liam says, “you’re so good at that,” all quiet and tentative. 

“I know I am,” Niall says with a sleepy little smile. “Now shh, I’m trying to sleep.” 

 

* 

 

July is nearly over and the last few weeks of tour are looming. They have a lot coming up: the movie premiere, a few weeks off, and then a month in Australia. Liam likes that he can count on certain things being the same, even when the city and the venue are different.

He and Niall find a way to fit together, making space for each other in their tour lives. They sleep together, more often than not, in hotel rooms or at the back of the bus. Liam starts finding pieces of Niall in his life, reminders of him like his favorite shampoo at the bottom of his suitcase or his favorite snapback stuffed inside Liam’s pillowcase. 

He’s learning to pay attention, too, to the things Niall likes when they’re alone. He catalogues the things that makes Niall’s breath hitch in his chest, makes the flush rise in his cheeks, makes his eyes go heavy-lidded. He’s learning the way Niall’s body curves and arches towards his when he’s got him pinned with hands on either side of his body against the wall in the greenroom, the way Niall grips Liam’s hips with his thighs when he’s on his back.

Liam’s always thinking about the things Niall likes and how to give him what he wants. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for but he finds it on the third page of a Google search for “pain play.” It’s a pinwheel, apparently not intended for what he wants to use it for but he can’t for the life of him imagine what its intended use is.

It takes some calculation and planning but it arrives a few days ahead of them in San Jose, a discreet brown package waiting at the reception when Paul checks them into their rooms. 

Liam locks himself in the room and takes the paper off, nervous as he opens it. It’s small, the smallest one he could find. The points are sharp when he touches his thumb to one, just gently. He presses a little harder and hisses at the shock of pain.

He read pages of reviews, his cock half hard as he thought about using it on Niall. He tests it on the inside of his arm, runs it very gently over his skin. It’s lots of little points of pain that shoot down his spine. It doesn’t do anything for him, he’s rather averse to pain himself, but he knows instinctively that Niall will like it.

He wraps it carefully in its packaging and tucks it away with a note for Niall. Later at the venue he tucks the parcel in Niall’s rucksack where he’ll be certain to find it, and waits.

He can’t stop thinking about it as they muddle through sound check in sticky, uncomfortable heat and take sweaty pictures with fans. He distracts himself with a quick round of boxing with Zayn early in the evening, putting his weight into the jabs and bouncing with restless energy. He’s coming out of the shower, shorts and a vest and his wet hair beneath a snapback, when Niall finds him. 

His eyes are bright, his cheeks pink and Liam knows he’s found his present.

“Fuck, Liam,” Niall groans, pressing his forehead to Liam’s shoulder and pushing his hips against Liam’s. He’s riding his thigh, rubbing his cock against Liam’s hip and mouthing at Liam’s throat. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles. “I wish we could use it now,” he says with a huff of laughter. 

It’s all Liam can think about. They drag through an endless meeting about the movie promotion coming up and then another soundcheck and photos with fans and Liam’s never been so grateful to go on stage and throw himself into performing, losing himself in the screams and the adrenaline. 

Liam’s worked himself up into a state by the time he and Niall are finally alone in the hotel room. He can feel it in the air between them, how thirsty they both are for it. Liam rubs himself against Niall's hip, heat pooling low in his belly, his cock hard already just from the anticipation. He has to stop and catch his breath, press his forehead to Niall's shoulder and remind himself to go slow.

It's thrilling the way Niall trusts him with this, trusts Liam to give him what he wants, the pain that he craves and take care of him, guide him through it.

His chest feels tight with words he wants to say but he can feel how wound up Niall is; it’s not the time for a discussion. 

"Baby," Liam mouths the word into Niall's flushed skin, pretends he's got the courage to say it out loud. When he does speak it's to urge Niall out of his clothes.

It's warm in the room, the air conditioning turned down. Liam helps Niall out of his clothes and gets his own kit off until he's in just his pants.

He puts a reassuring hand on Niall's knee as he makes a space for himself between Niall's spread thighs. "Are you ready?" He asks. He can't help but press a kiss to Niall's hip, to the bruises shaped by his fingers that are beginning to fade.

Niall's cock is as hard as Liam has ever seen it, curved up against his belly, an angry, flushed red and already wet at the tip.

Niall huffs a laugh and cards his fingers through Liam's hair. "Fuck, Liam, I'm so hard."

Liam can barely breathe for how hot it is to get to be like this with Niall, to see him like this. He's utterly at home in his own skin, confident in the things he wants and has no trouble asking for.

"Yeah," Liam breathes. The head of his own cock is poking out of the waist of his pants. He may not make it through this without coming all over himself.

He leans across the bed to grab the pinwheel from the nightstand. He's read as much as he could find about this and he's going with his gut at this point.

He reaches for Niall's hand. "Here," Liam says, wrapping his fingers around Niall's wrist, turning his hand palm up. He uses the lightest touch and runs the pinwheel across the center of Niall's palm.

It's immediate, the way Niall reacts to the sharp points of pain on his skin. He cries out, a low sound like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, and takes a deep, shuddering breath, his hand shaking in Liam's grip. "Okay?" Liam asks him, looking up at his face. Niall's started to sweat, his hair line damp and his cheeks pink. His mouth is wet the way it gets when he's nervous and can't stop licking his lips.

"Yes," Niall whispers.

"Good." Liam brings Niall's hand to his mouth to press a kiss to the center of his palm. They go over this every time, but Liam has to be sure Niall knows. "Just tell me to stop if you want me to and I will."

Niall's quiet, he knows it and doesn't need to say anything.

Liam settles on his knees. He starts as gently as he can, using the lightest touch, and presses the pinwheel to the center of Niall's chest above his belly button. He watches, heart hammering in his throat as the pinwheel moves across Niall's skin, dozens of points of pain running continuously over Niall's body.

Niall sucks in a sharp breath at the first touch. He clenches his hands into fists at his sides and Liam watches in stunned fascination as Niall arches up into it, back coming up off the bed.

"Liam," he sobs out, "fuck, that's good."

Liam’s mouth has gone dry. He does it again, runs the pinwheel back over the same path and watches Niall’s eyes slip shut as he turns his face into the pillow, arching like he can’t decide if he wants to get away or push into it. Liam moves the pinwheel over Niall’s chest and belly and when his skin is covered in tiny red marks, he slides down the bed, one hand on Niall's knee. "Here, spread your legs for me."

He presses Niall's thigh into the mattress. "There you go, that's good, Niall." Niall's out of his head with pleasure and pain, riding that fine line that sends him somewhere else. Liam touches the pinwheel to the inside of Niall's thigh, high up where the skin is pale and sensitive, as gently as he can. Niall cries out at that and Liam looks up to gauge the reaction on his face.

"Niall, you with me?"

Niall nods. Liam lets it go on for a little longer; the first time is just supposed to be short, to introduce Niall to the new kind of pain.

Liam presses his palm to his cock. The cotton is soaked with his pre-come and he's going to come in no time when he gets his hand on himself.

Niall's had enough. Liam throws the pinwheel aside and spreads Niall's thighs wide. He takes the head of Niall's cock between his lips, sucks hard and groans as Niall shudders and comes sharp and frantic in his mouth, his spunk hitting the back of Liam's throat. Liam swallows and pets gently at Niall’s thighs, his belly, everywhere he can reach. 

Niall falls back into the pillows, pulling air into his lungs. As soon as Liam settles beside him on the bed he curves himself in against Liam, wrapping his body around Liam's. He's shivering like he's cold but his skin is flushed and damp with sweat.

Liam kisses his cheek, the corner of his mouth and says quietly, "did you like that then?" He knows the answer but he wants Niall to tell him, he wants to talk about it so he knows where to go from here.

Liam pulls the blankets up over them, settles them around Niall's shoulder. It takes him a minute to realize that Niall's rubbing himself against Liam, his cock half hard and riding Liam's thigh.

Liam presses him close with a palm low on the small of his back and murmurs nonsense against his skin, encouraging.

“Tell me, Niall,” Liam says after a while, when Niall’s breathing has slowed and mostly returned to normal. 

Niall mouths a kiss to Liam’s throat. “It was so good, Liam,” he breathes. “It was like, I was high, floating. And fuck, when I came it was so intense. Thank you," Niall mumbles. He's pressing fast little kisses along Liam's throat, his jaw and Liam can't help the rumble of pleasure that goes through him.

When Niall’s settled a bit, Liam goes into the bathroom and comes back with two paracetamol and a glass of water.

“Sit up love,” he says gently. “Take these.”

Niall’s sleepy and soft and the smile he gives Liam makes Liam’s stomach dive down somewhere between his toes before it settles again. He wants to give Niall anything he wants, to make him feel as good as he can.

In the morning, Liam wakes up to Niall pressing himself against his hip, hard and insistent. Liam puts a hand to his chest and pins him to the bed. “Let me look at you,” he breathes. Niall’s skin is covered in tiny little bruises, the insides of his thighs, the slope of his belly, soft skin at his sides.

They don’t have as much time as he wishes they did, but he he spends several minutes tracing the shapes of the marks with his tongue and fingers until Niall’s breathing hard and his cock is leaking against his belly.

“Would you want to do that again?” Liam says afterwards when they’re getting ready. “The pinwheel, I mean.”

“You don’t have to ask, do you?” Niall says, amused. He knee walks across the bed and tugs Liam forward, fingers in the neck of his top. “It was intense and good.” He kisses Liam slowly until they’re both breathing hard. “Next time,” he says, his eyes bright and squinty, “you can do my bum.”

 

*

 

Tour winds down and Liam’s skin feels like it doesn’t fit right and his head is a wild jumble. He’s tired of it, of the fans who feel like he owes them something, of thinking maybe they’re right. There’s so much coming up for them - they barely get a break before they’re off and running again, the movie premiere, awards shows. He loves what they do - what they _get_ to do - but it’s all so much sometimes.

He tries to clear his head in the usual ways. He spars with Zayn, he lifts weights, he picks a fight with Louis. It’s when Louis’s tackling him, arms around his waist and laughing that it clicks into place and finally he gets it. He pushes Louis to his back and scrambles to his feet. “Later, Tommo,” he breathes and jogs off to find Niall.

Niall’s at the drum kit with Josh, watching him beat out a riff. Liam comes up behind him, puts a hand on his hip so he doesn’t startle him, and bends his head down to say quietly into his ear, “Do you have a moment?”

“Always for you,” Niall laughs and waggles his eyebrows. “Thanks for the lesson, things to do, people to see, you know how it is,” Niall says to Josh and drags Liam off stage.

They end up in the quick change space beneath the stage. It’s the place they’ve found with the most privacy and the least chance of being found out.

“What’s up?” Niall fits their fingers together and Liam feels himself start to settle, feels everything begin to click into place.

“I just - everything’s so loud,” Liam says, gesturing towards his head and knowing that Niall will understand. “I want - tonight.” He stops. He’s stumbling over what he wants to say and he can’t catch his breath. “Can we. Can I spank you tonight? If you say stop, I’m going to stop.” It’s important that Niall knows that.

“Yeah,” Niall says, “I know you will.” He lifts up and presses his mouth to Liam’s in a soft kiss. “I told you, Liam. I trust you.”

The day is long and unending and by the time it’s over, Liam’s head feels loud and his skin feels like it doesn’t fit right. 

“Liam,” Niall says when the door shuts and they’re alone for the first time since this afternoon. “You always take care of me,” he says, fitting their hands together and pulling him towards the bed. “Now it’s my turn. Go on.” 

Liam undresses Niall carefully and guides him to the middle of the bed. 

"Here," he says, sliding a hand down his spine to curl around his hip, lifting him up. He pushes a pillow beneath his himself. 

The sound of the first slap is loud, Liam’s palm landing on the swell of Niall’s arse with a crack that rings in his ears. Fuck. It’s like some switch has flipped in his head and this is what he’s needed, his hands on Niall, Niall giving himself over with all the trust and care he has to offer Liam. Niall’s reaction is immediate, his spine going liquid and his hips coming up off the bed like he’s chasing the feel of Liam’s hand on him before he’s pressing himself back into the mattress, rubbing his cock into the sheets. 

It’s more than he thought it would be, the way Niall cries out and shoves his face into the pillows as he tilts his arse up, offering himself to Liam. 

Liam soothes his hand down Niall’s back, giving him something to focus on. “That’s lovely, Niall,” Liam says. His voice is hoarse, his mouth dry. Until now, Niall’s been the focus of what they do together, Liam’s hands on his skin because that’s what Niall needs, what he wants. But tonight, right now, for the first time it feels like something Liam needs. 

Liam counts silently to five, watching Niall moving restlessly, waiting, and then hits him again, his palm coming down harder this time, stinging as it lands on Niall’s arse. 

“Liam,” Niall sobs out, rubbing his cheek against his arm. 

“Is that good, love?” Liam asks and doesn’t wait this time, just spanks him again, the opposite side where the skin is fresh and untouched. 

“Again, Liam, fuck _again_ ,” Niall moans. 

Liam counts the slaps in his head and by the time he’s reached ten, Niall is a mess, fucking his hips into the pillow and crying out with every slap of Liam’s hand on his skin. 

“You’re so good, that was so good,” Liam says breathlessly as he climbs up beside Niall. “Come here, baby,” he mumbles against Niall’s cheek and wraps an arm around his waist. Liam’s hard but it doesn’t matter. The tension beneath his skin is gone, the noises in his head have gone quiet and the only thing that makes sense is Niall. 

When they come, the two of them together, kissing through it, it’s almost incidental, an afterthought to what came before. 

They fall asleep like that, tangled together, Liam’s palm stroking over Niall’s back, lulled by the even sound of his breathing. 

 

*

 

Liam can’t remember a day that’s felt as long or has dragged on the way today has. 

Niall’s spent the day dressed in trackies and a soft, worn hoodie as they get shuffled from interview to interview. Liam feels like he might fly out of his skin - it's driving him mad that they're ten feet away sat on opposite ends of the interview and he can't _touch_.

It’s miserable. Liam can tell Niall’s sore, watching him carefully every time he shifts, schooling his expression to something that could pass for neutral if Liam weren’t so attuned to every movement Niall makes. 

Liam feels guilty, like maybe he was too rough, maybe he should have thought it through a little better, been less selfish when he suggested he spank Niall. 

Liam’s feeling irritable, mostly annoyed with himself, by the time the final interview ends and he can get Niall alone. 

“Hi,” Niall smiles softly at him and Liam knows he must be sore all over, can see it in the way he holds himself, but he’s never looked lovelier. 

“How are you?” Liam asks, pushing Niall’s hair out of his eyes. It’s soft today, free of product, and makes him look younger than usual. 

“Good, I’m really good, Liam,” he says quietly and curls himself in against Liam. 

“I’m sorry, was I too rough last night? You look, fuck, you look like you’re in pain.” 

“No,” Niall says, and presses his hips against Liam’s. “No, I'm so hard. It’s like, every time I sit I remember it, how hot it was.” He rubs his cheek against Liam’s shoulder. “It was so good, Liam.” 

Liam’s so into the thought of Niall unable to focus because of his bum, because of what Liam did to him. 

There’s no one else around back here and Liam feels a little thrill as he slips his hand down the back of Niall’s trackies, cupping his arse. 

“Liam,” Niall hisses. Fuck, Niall’s so hard, rubbing himself off against Liam’s thigh like this, shameless with how turned on he is. 

Niall’s bum feels warm to the touch and he can imagine how tender it is. He wants to strip Niall down, push him to his belly and take care of him, kiss him all over until he’s forgotten the ache. 

Liam turns them around so Niall’s back is against the door and tugs the waist of his trackies down until his cock springs free. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Liam tells him, darting in for a quick kiss before he falls to his knees. 

“Oh, Liam, shit,” Niall mumbles, pressing his palm to his face like this is all too much. 

Liam palms Niall’s bum and gently brings him forward as he opens his mouth and takes the head of Niall’s cock between his lips. It’s salty wet at the tip and Liam’s mouth waters with the taste of Niall on his tongue as he licks at the slit. 

Niall rests his hand at the crown of Liam’s head, shifting restlessly against the wall like he’s trying not to move too much. Liam presses his fingertips into Niall’s skin in a way he knows must make him ache and Niall’s hips stutter like doesn’t know if he should push back into it or try to get away. 

Liam does it again and sucks harder and that’s it, Niall’s so hard that’s all it takes for him to come down Liam’s throat, fingers tugging at Liam’s hair as he arches back against the wall. 

It's ages until they can be alone again, a full day of press, signing for a bunch of fans until finally it’s the two of them again. 

"Are you alright?" Liam asks as he slips his hands beneath Niall's jumper, touching his skin.

"Yes," Niall lets out. He winds his arm around Liam's neck. 

“I want to see you,” Liam says. 

Niall gets on his hands and knees and wiggles his bum. Liam grins and swats fondly at his hip and Niall’s head falls forward with a low groan. 

Niall’s bum is pink and Liam can see how sore he must feel, the ache in his muscles. It’s incredible, this reminder of what Niall let Liam do to him last night, of the way it made them both feel. 

Liam runs his palms over the shape of Niall’s arse, squeezing gently for the way Niall ruts into the bed. 

He’s been thinking about this part for a while now, every time he makes Niall come he thinks about this, about touching him here. He traces the line down the crack of his arse to his hole where he’s pink. He touches the tip of his thumb there and listens to Niall’s breathing hitch and watches his hips push back.

“Is this okay?” Liam asks, using his other hand to stroke the dip of Niall’s spine. He nudges a little, slightly more pressure, for the way it makes Niall rock into it like he’s trying to get more. 

“Yes, that’s good,” Niall breathes and turns his head into the pillow, working his hips. He’s so sexy, the way he reacts with his entire body to the things Liam does to him. Liam just wants to try everything, to see what turns Niall on and makes him come the hardest, what makes him cry out low and guttural.

Liam keeps his thumb there, not pushing, just stroking at Niall, watching the way Niall’s caught between wanting to push his arse back for more and wanting to rub himself against the sheets. Liam slides his other palm up the middle of Niall’s back following the dip of his spine. At the nape of his neck, he curls his hand and digs his fingernails into the meat of Niall’s muscles and drags them down to the swell of his arse.

It’s incredible the way Niall groans and twists, writhing like he can’t decide whether he wants more or he wants it to stop. 

“Oh fuck me,” Niall sobs with his face in the sheets and his fingernails digging into his palms, hands clenched in fists. “Liam,” he gasps, “do it again.”

Liam presses a little harder with his thumb until he can feel it push in, just the tip of it to the nail bed and slides his other hand back up Niall’s skin. He crooks his thumb as he drags his nails down Niall’s back leaving five matching lines down the pale slope of his spine as Niall pushes his arse up and fucks himself on Liam’s thumb.

Niall’s wanking himself as he rocks his hips, and when he comes Liam can feel the way he goes tight, clenching around Liam’s thumb. 

Liam stays where he is and wanks himself quickly, the thought of how tight Niall was on just his thumb enough to push him over the edge. 

It isn’t until a little while later when Liam’s sleepy and debating getting up to shower that he rolls to his side and says quietly, "is that something you'd want to do?" He doesn't know of a better way to say it, it feels weird enough as it is saying it out loud, asking Niall if he'd like to get fucked.

Niall lifts his head up off the pillow and makes a face. "What, me coming like a train wasn't enough of a clue for you?"

Liam gives Niall a small smile that feels fond and starts somewhere in his chest. "But I'm serious," Liam says.

"I know you are," Niall mumbles around a yawn. "So am I."

Now that's out there Liam doesn't know what happens now.

Niall laughs. "Doesn't have to happen now, Liam," he says. He's quiet for a moment before he says softly, "Never have, before. Never wanted to."

Liam's pulse quickens. "Never?"

Niall shakes his head. "No, not until you."

Niall has this way of saying these things - things that feel enormous rattling around in Liam's own head - as if it's the easiest thing in the world to say them out loud. Liam admires him for it and is maybe a little terrified.

"When it happens it happens, okay? Don't wanna make a big deal out of it, you know? Just, let's see how it goes."

Liam falls asleep thinking about it.

 

* 

 

Tour ends with four nights in Los Angeles. It’s a different pace, as far from Wolverhampton as Liam thinks it’s possible to get. He loves performing in LA and playing the Staples Center, on top of the excitement of the Teen Choice Awards and having his family out for a visit.

In the morning, when Liam climbs out of the shower, Niall is sat at the edge of the sink in a pair of pants and nothing else. He looks as though he’s only just woken up, his hair a mess in every direction and his eyes soft with sleep.

“Hey,” he says as Liam reaches for a towel and wraps it around his waist.

“Morning,” Liam says, stepping forward between Niall’s thighs. He bends his head for a kiss and he can smell the mint on Niall’s breath, taste the toothpaste on his lips.

Niall sits there and watches, humming something to himself, as Liam shaves himself. He’s watching like he’s paying attention, like he’s actually enjoying himself.

“Can I?” Niall asks nodding at the razor in Liam’s hand.

Liam shifts until he’s standing between Niall’s legs and holds himself still as Niall grips his jaw in one hand and turns the razor on with the other.

Liam has never done this before and the intimacy in the act feels more than anything they’ve done together thus far.

He can’t explain it but he’s getting hard beneath his towel. He doesn’t know what from, whether it’s the confident, self assured way Niall’s taking care of him or Niall’s breath on his skin but he’s breathing hard and he feels flushed.

When he’s done, Niall sets the razor on the sink and cups Liam’s jaw in one hand, fingers of the other smoothing over his cheek.

He’s a little breathless when he says, “Looks good.”

“You liked that?” Niall says with a little smile.

“I suppose so,” Liam agrees with a little laugh because he hadn’t expected to but he did.

Niall winds his arm around Liam’s neck and tugs him forward so that they’re pressed together chest to chest. “I like everything with you,” Niall mumbles against Liam’s cheek.

Fuck. _Me too_ , Liam thinks. 

Niall’s headed to London and Liam’s going home for a few days. There’s always a melancholy sort of feeling at the end of a tour, but there’s a particularly hollow feeling in his chest this time. He doesn’t know what happens now. They haven’t had that conversation yet and Liam doesn’t know how to be the one to bring it up. 

Liam feels every part of the last month settle in his shoulders, all the moments that have built between him and Niall and all the things he feels but doesn’t know how to say. He doesn’t want this to be it. He doesn’t want the end of tour to be the end of him and Niall. 

He doesn’t say anything until they’re in the car on the way to LAX and his heart is in his throat. “I don’t want this to be over,” he says quietly, looking away from the window to where Niall’s sat beside him. Harry’s in the front and Louis and Zayn are in another car. It’s a stupid place to say this, he should have said something when they were alone. But he’s terrified of not saying something. “You and me, I mean,” he says. 

Niall looks surprised. “Payno, what? It’s not - it’s not over.” He blinks and turns his face away. 

Shit. “Niall,” Liam says quietly. “Come on, look at me.” When Niall looks back at him Liam shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know what I thought - I just. I didn’t know we were - if it was just a tour thing.” 

“Don’t say that,” Niall says, swiping at his eyes. “It’s just tour - tour is over. Nothing else.” 

Liam lets out the breath he feels like he’s been holding since he woke up this morning. “Okay,” Liam he says, like the weight he’s been dragging with him has been lifted. “I should have said something before.”

The sound Niall makes is frustrated but he scoots closer and tucks himself in against Liam. “Yeah, you should have, you idiot,” he says fondly. 

 

* 

 

Liam and Niall don’t see each other for four days. Liam spends the first twenty-four hours sleeping in his childhood room. When he finally rejoins the living, he lets his mum spoil him with his favorite meals, watches terrible television with his father and texts Niall whatever comes to mind. 

_come home now, liam,_ Niall texts him on the third day and Liam’s belly does a flip flop. 

On the fourth day he ends up back at his flat in London and he calls Niall before he’s stepped through the door. 

“Hi,” he says, feeling breathless. “I miss you.” 

Liam swears he can hear Niall’s smile through the phone. His voice is fond and soft when he says, “Miss you too, Payno.” 

"Come over, if you want," Liam says abruptly, his heart in his throat. "Not much of a cook, but we could get takeaway." He stops for a second and then says before he can think better of it, "I just want to see you."

Niall doesn’t hesitate. “You don’t need to ask. Been waiting to see you. I’ll be over in a bit.” 

Liam's had lube and condoms since Los Angeles, tucked away in his bag like a secret. He hasn't unpacked except to put them in the drawer by his bed.

Liam calls for takeaway and orders more food than the two of them could eat in a week and he’s all anxious energy by the time the doorbell rings. 

He opens the door to Niall and it's only been four days but it feels like something unfolding in his chest when Niall smiles at him and pulls him in for a hug. Niall smells familiar and Liam realizes that in the time they’ve been together, Niall’s come to remind him of home. 

"I’m starving, what'd you get?" Niall asks sitting down on the sofa and kicking his feet up on Liam's coffee table.

"Everything," Liam says and passes Niall the remote. “Here, find something to watch,” he says and starts unpacking the cartons of food. 

They eat curry out of the containers and watch a Will Ferrell movie Niall apparently knows all the words to but Liam’s never seen before. Halfway through the movie, Liam gives up. He’s not watching, just thinking about the condoms next to his bed and about the faded teeth marks beneath Niall's jaw and the way Niall's whole face lights up when he laughs at the film. He's thinking about the way Niall clearly and vocally trusts him, the way they're trying to fit into each other's lives.

Niall turns his face away from the television and looks over at Liam. "Payno," he says fondly, his voice soft and full of affection. "You aren't even watching, are you?"

Liam's voice feels caught in his throat and his mouth is dry. There is no other place he'd rather be right now. "No," he says.

Niall's expression shifts from amusement into something a little darker, sharper. "Okay," he says and before Liam can brace himself Niall's clambering up over Liam and settling himself on Liam's thighs, his knees straddling Liam's hips.

"Been wanting this," he says sitting his bum in Liam's lap and putting his hands on Liam's shoulders. "Don't know what you've been waiting for," he mutters, shaking his head and covers Liam's mouth with his own.

Liam hums against Niall's lips and puts his hands on Niall's waist beneath the hem of his t-shirt.

"Do you want to?" Niall asks against Liam's mouth. Liam can feel how hard Niall is, the shape of his cock against his stomach. 

"Fuck," is all Liam can say, because Niall's wriggling his hips against Liam's and it's shameless and hot as hell.

"You're the worst," Liam groans, and Niall laughs breathlessly, endlessly pleased with himself.

"You're too sweet. Take me to your bed already, yeah?"

Liam won't admit it out loud, but he'd been hoping for this. He spent the better part of the afternoon tidying his bedroom, putting clean sheets on his bed. This is what they’ve been dancing around. 

They stumble down the hall to Liam’s room and his enormous bed that takes up the entire space. 

Liam’s nervous as he settles above Niall. After everything they’ve done together, the things they’ve tried, this is what has his heart in his throat and his palms damp with sweat. 

“Hey,” Liam says, pulling back to look down at Niall. He wants to say something about how huge this feels to him, about how important he thinks this is but nothing comes out. 

Niall just gives him a kiss and mumbles into his mouth, “Me too.” 

When they’re naked and hard against one another, Liam settles between Niall’s spread thighs and gets his fingers wet with lube. 

Niall’s breath hitches at the first press of his finger, just the tip, in. He’s so tight and Liam strokes his thigh, his belly, the sensitive inside of his knee and waits for NIall to relax. 

“How’s that?” Liam asks quietly, letting Niall adjust. 

Liam takes his time with it. It’s so nice to be here like this with Niall, in his own space with nowhere to be and nothing to do but whatever they want. 

“Good,” Niall breathes out. 

When Liam has two fingers in Niall, gently working him open, Niall says, “okay, that’s good Liam, come on.” 

“Are you ready?” Liam asks, pressing a kiss to the inside of Niall’s knee. 

“Yes,” Niall breathes. "How d'you want me?" he says it like he's trying to be cheeky but it comes out breathless. He's wanking himself, his hand tight around his cock.

Liam's thought about this in a dozen different scenarios, wanked off to the thought of Niall riding him, of bending him in half. He doesn't know what's best for the first time so he says what he wants to say. "On your front, is that okay?"

Niall's eyes go dark and his face goes pink. "Jesus, okay."

"Come here first," Liam mumbles, reaching for Niall and pulling him so he's sitting in the vee of Liam's thighs.

"Okay," Niall says with a smile and winds an arm around Liam's neck as he lifts his chin. Liam bundles him up with both arms around him and kisses him hard, fingers digging into his back.

"Yes," Niall groans, arching into it. "Harder," he breathes.

Eventually Liam lets go, thinking he could come like this if it goes on any longer. He reaches for the condom he threw on the bed earlier.

Niall's lying back against the pillows, watching Liam and slowly stroking his cock. Liam gets the condom rolled down and pours a generous amount of lube on his cock.

Liam leans over Niall, kisses him once and gently rolls him to his front. Liam rides his cock in the line of his arse, getting it slick with lube. The first push is tighter than anything Liam's ever felt in his life. "You alright?" he asks, touching his lips to Niall's shoulder.

Niall sighs, shifting his hips. "Yeah," he breathes. "I'm good. Keep going." He's got his head pillowed on his folded arms, thighs spread. Liam pushes in, a slow thrust of his hips and Niall groans and his hips come up off the bed, pushing back.

Liam puts a hand at the small of Niall's back, holding him still and Niall closes his eyes and grits out, "Fuck, yes." Liam pushes all the way in until his hips are pressed up against Niall's arse. It feels hotter than anything he's ever experienced, the way Niall is tight around him. Liam unfolds himself to lie on top of Niall, his chest pressed to the warmth of Niall's back.

"Breathe," Liam mumbles against Niall's ear. He keeps his mouth there and nudges his hips forward, causing Niall to groan and clench up. It's incredible, he can feel every breath Niall takes, every tiny movement of his body. It's not going to last long; Liam's doing all he can to keep from coming.

He loves it, fuck, he loves the way Niall feels around him, beneath him, the way he sounds, the noises caught in his chest and muffled in the pillows.

Liam finds a rhythm that makes his balls draw up and his toes start to curl, makes Niall start to push his arse back.

"Oh fuck," he whispers, turning his face up, neck arched. "Don't stop, Liam, fuck me, don't stop." Liam wonders if Niall's even aware of what he's saying at this point and that spurs him on, makes him work his hips a little faster, the sound of skin on skin.

"Are you hard?" Liam asks because he wants to know if this is as good for Niall as it is for him.

"Fuck, Liam," Niall groans and it's half sob, half laugh. "So hard,” he breathes out, “you don't know, Jesus."

Liam kisses the back of Niall’s neck where the skin is flushed and damp. “Yeah?” He tightens his grip on Niall’s hip and works his hips a little faster. “Can you come like this? Can you come with me fucking you?"

Niall lets out a huff of laughter. “Jesus, Liam,” he groans. 

Liam fucks him a little harder, ever mindful the noises Niall makes, the way his body reacts beneath his. It doesn’t take long, Liam comes a short while later with his forehead tucked up in the space between Niall's shoulder blades, breathing harshly into his skin.

He pulls out, ties the condom off and throws it vaguely in the direction of the bathroom. He touches Niall’s hip gently. “Come here, love," he says, rolling him to his back.

Niall's cock is hard against his belly, red and wet at the tip. He nudges Niall's thighs apart and ducks his head to take him into his mouth. Niall shudders and pushes his hand into Liam's hair, holding him there.

Liam hums in pleasure and sucks harder, rubbing his palms up the insides of Niall’s thighs, wanting to touch him everywhere. 

“Liam,” Niall sighs, tugging enough that it sends a spark of heat and pleasure down Liam’s spine. 

Liam strokes the base of Niall’s cock as he sucks on the head. 

He keeps up a steady, even rhythm, listening to the noises Niall makes, watching the signs that he’s getting close. He picks up speed and sucks harder and Niall comes on his tongue, hitting the back of his throat. 

“Mm,” Niall rumbles and waves his hand in a gesture Liam takes to mean, _come here_. 

“Was that alright?” Liam asks as he settles beside Niall and knows before it happens that he’s going to get a laugh for that. But it’s important to him that they talk about these things. 

“Yes, Liam,” Niall’s voice is laced with fond exasperation. “It was really good.” 

“Just checking,” Liam says as he and Niall fit themselves together. 

 

*

 

It came off as a joke, back in the beginning, something they said in interviews about Niall’s fear of a crowd and his need to be cuddled. It was just something cute for the fans to latch onto. The truth of it is, they’re always aware of Niall when they’re somewhere with the potential for large crowds of people. These days, arriving in the States means they’re huddled together in a group of security, pushed through screaming fans and paparazzi shouting at them, hoping for a reaction. Liam tugs his hood up over his head and follows closely behind Niall, one hand on his rucksack as they make a chain through the mass of people, cameras, flashing lights. He wishes he could do more for Niall - it’s a lot for Liam and he can see from the tension in Niall’s shoulders and the set to his mouth that it’s a lot for him as well. He wants to wrap an arm around Niall and tuck him in against him like he can protect Niall from the fear that comes from too many people in too small a space.

Basil’s leading them out through the doors and into the humid evening. There are three cars and he ushers Niall into the first one, gesturing to one of the other two for Liam, like that’s going to happen.

Liam shakes his head. “I’m going with Niall,” he says. Basil looks like he’s going to push the issue but Liam sets his jaw and doesn’t budge. He doesn’t set his foot down about much but this is important.

Basil frowns but steps aside and ushers the two of them in to the car.

Liam lets Niall be as they pull away from the curb, lets him retreat into his own head for a bit. He looks out the window and watches Manhattan spread out before him, the lights of the city alway so bright and exhilarating.

By the time the car pulls up to the hotel, Niall’s begun to come out of it. He’s fidgeting, picking at the seam of his jeans. Liam understands Niall better these days - understands what goes through his head and what he needs. Liam covers Niall’s hand with his own.

The journey to the hotel is quiet and Liam’s come to a decision by the time they’ve gotten their room keys. 

They get themselves settled and Liam stops Niall with a hand at his elbow. “Come here,” he says. “Look at me.” He keeps his voice firm and steady, something for Niall to focus on, and grips his chin. “Breathe, Niall. I’m going to take care of you,” he says, his voice trailing to softness, this flood of affection that makes it hard to breathe.

Understanding flashes in Niall’s eyes and Liam can see him swallow. 

“Get undressed and on the bed,” he instructs and waits until Niall’s made a spot for himself, legs hanging off the edge of the bed, his face pressed into a pillow. 

“Count them for me,” Liam tells him as he runs his palm down Niall’s spine. 

“One,” Niall whispers as his eyes slip closed and he breathes in deep through his nose.

By the time Liam reaches ten, Niall’s gone boneless, writhing and clutching at the sheets and begging Liam. 

“Please,” he mumbles, low and needy, hunching his hips down. 

After, when Niall’s slowly coming back to himself, Liam goes through the ritual of taking care of him. That’s what it feels like, this important piece of the puzzle as he brings Niall back down, runs his hands gently over his skin and kisses him softly, sweetly as Niall breathes through it. 

 

*

 

When Liam wakes a short while later, the room is dark, washed in light from the city pouring through the windows. Beside him, Niall’s passed out with his face in the pillows, naked with the sheets kicked to the foot of the bed. His body has no idea what time it is, still on London time, and he finds himself wide awake. 

He shifts to his side and strokes his fingers across the breadth of Niall’s shoulders, tracing his fingers down the dip of his spine. 

He does that for a while, watching the way the lights cast Niall’s skin in shadows, until he realizes Niall’s awake. 

“Hi,” Liam says quietly. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” His chest feels tight with emotion he’s afraid to put a name to. He doesn’t want to make things more complicated than they already are but there are words he wants to say to Niall, on the tip of his tongue if only he were brave enough.

“What are you thinking about?” Liam asks, pressing his thumb to a faded bruise at the base of Niall’s spine. It’s easier than saying what he wants to say.

Niall hums. “You,” he mumbles, around a yawn and a sleepy smile, burrowing closer. 

“Yeah? What about me?” Liam asks, tracing the bruise with the tip of his index finger.

Niall tilts his head towards Liam. “That you’re so fucking sweet,” he says a little breathlessly. Liam feel his hips moving subtly against the mattress. “Even when I’m begging you to hurt me, you can’t help but take care of me.”

He lifts his chin and presses his mouth against Liam’s. He pulls back to look Liam in the eye. “I love you,” he says. “Don’t, you don’t have to say anything. Just wanted you to know.”

He rests his cheek back against the pillow. “Can you keep doing that please?” He mumbles as his eyes drift shut. 

Liam doesn’t know how Niall can say something like that, something that feels so earth shattering. It’s how he’s always been, brave in his ability to say what he means no matter the consequences. 

Liam takes a breath. “Niall,” he says, waiting until Niall opens his eyes and looks at him. 

“Hmm?” Niall mumbles.

Liam ducks his head. “I love you,” he whispers right up against his mouth.

Niall lets his eyes drift closed again, lips curved in a smile. “I know you do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'm on [Tumblr](http://alwayseven.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi.


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